Tidal Poem by Charles Malcolm

A shadow rolls
across the water.

I always see it coming.
My heels are dug into wet sand.
I flick the lighter
and hope that I'll have time
for one final drag
before I'm consumed by the wave.

Wind becomes suction
for a fraction of a second
and the gulls go quiet.
Salted air coats the inside of my nostrils
and menthol the walls of my lungs.

I feel everybody
and everything
in me
in that moment.

Nothing
and nobody
when I finally exhale.