What is it to sit with the tide?
The surf is not—is never a murmur.
It is a solid, constant statement, repeated and varied.
Perhaps sitting with the tide is a chance to know myself?
To understand fear—the wisdom in it.
To gain perspective. Realize my potential for change.
maybe it’s just escape
Why do I squirm inside, walking the rocks?
Is it the memory of the dog pack nearly setting on me last weekend?
Is it the spider-like quality of the crabs scuttling into cracks?
Is it the slimy shine of the things that cling to moist rocks with front legs, then flip and snake into the brine of tidal pools with their sleek hind tails?
Or is it only the fear of the surf?
The reality of the tide’s power?
The unforgiving consequences of a rocky shore?
Adelaide lives in the Midwest with a golden lab named Sam and spends time teaching English as a Second Language to more recent arrivers at an adult learning center.
Adelaide’s poetry and fiction have appeared in publications including New Mystics, The Enchanting Verses, Truck, Bindweed, Pangolin Review, and Westview Journal.
Sometimes Sam does consider getting on a plane.