When the tide swirled in,
I found my wellies overtopped
by the chill of saltwater,
as hundreds of tiny becalmed
sails swirled around my calves.

I did not leap toward shore,
but stood and watched them
caught in a vortex not of their
making, these small doomed
creatures that could not make
their way back out to sea,
that would die near the tideline,

their once-cobalt bodies fading
to ghostly white before sunset,
their delicate skeletons
ribboning the sand.

I thought of all those stranded
through no fault of their own,
those aching and lonely,
those suffering and in pain,

and, with my wet feet squelching
in my rubber boots, sent every
droplet of lovingkindness coursing
through me into the waves,

hoping against hope that
the merest trickle of it might
reach those who need it most.