Three quarter moon-painted water,
Salted, waved, blue V-
To horizons...
Past, through, on,
Now.

My bag's packed, waiting, dusty.
Long past horizon's Time.
Beckons known, heard,
Giggling foam

Rounds my feet, walking,
Stumbling...one sandbar,
Deep drop-off. Fins.
Silence slices, waiting.

Do my clothes swim with me?
Are they gifts for the
Sandbar?
With my
Bag?

elysabeth faslund

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gulf-night-water/