Tidal Pool Poem by Amy Marie

I am glassy and variable. The life in me
Witnesses a rising and descending roof:
Hinging not only on my own mood but on the Moon's.

Not to mention my twin sisters who share the traditional fog
Or those fans of mine who bend over me -
Fleeing but recollecting my beaming shimmers.

I captivate them. The Sun reminds me each afternoon -
By crystallizing me - that it agrees with their bliss.
My body lives between rocks - inhabiting their shape.

Such rough formations thrive through holding me.
The clouds do not envy my roof. Like me -
They slip from form to form in fickleness.

But what takes effect at my floor?
Nothing that mocks or minds
Its physical situation beneath me.

When the Moon reenters the scene ceremoniously -
A flashlight on high - my roof

Reaches for it like a lover.