Sea And Shore
p. 48 · Read in the full issue
By Francis Tekonnang
The tide swiftly creeps Like thick lucid jelly fish with Rounded zigzag edges Meandering silently as tentacles Of a giant jelly fish Crawling on its chest ashore.
Soon there will be no more White patches of sand Among thorny rocks, Nor scattered pools with Starfish black and white To scare your steps.
Yet, see those rocks!
Skulls half submerged Diving into the waves, While the beach naked Lies on her back, her heels Kissed by thick watery lips.
The pregnant beach sighs: Eeee Eeee, as gentle waves Lick her up and down.
Hear crabs snore, And blue waves, stretches of Long racing furrows, menacingly Laugh as they come, Flapping and smacking, Pounding and slapping The beach, like spittle slaps Of tongue; Recoil into muttering claws Scratching, preparing to grab again.
And when the tide goes down The waves retreat Smoothing their way Into another defeat.