down at the estuary the riverhas breached her bankpushed the crashing shorein a tumult of dark waterand waves.spawning fish waiton the turning tide. down at the estuarybetween the treeswater flows thick and darkswirling whirlpools and eddiesalong the rocks,scraping sand and old storiesfrom deep poolsto the sea to the sea. down at the estuaryhouses have been…
and sometimes we wake face down amongst the debris of the tide line, sea grass entangled sun pulling salt skin taut across our bones. there is no knowing our name or how it is we came here but there is a thirst in us and across the mudflats, beyond the driftwood and bodies of creatures…