A Poem: Low Tide | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Hudson Valley; Chronogram

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A Poem: Low Tide

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On tidal flats' shrinking sediment

a golden wedding ring lies half buried;

engraved inside: beloved, friend,

we two form a multitude. Once married,

now lost to history, a man, a wife

in spontaneous embrace

declared for the rest of their lives—

or, anger unleashed, love erased.

In the river's dark swirl and flow

misbegotten children sink and rise

and sink again: shifting shadows

extinguish evidence before one's eyes.

Hope contending with experience:

the mud-tarnished gold still glistens.

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