High
Tide
All
the arms of the moon
gathered
the plump round snails
it
was time to bring them home
Each
snail’s ribbon of teeth
sliced
through the land
wind-tossed
ribbons of forest
people
flew up into the sky
mingling
with the wood
after
the storm a jackstraw world
pin
oak woman, sweet gum man
standing
in sleepy ranks
under
a snail-full moon
