by Peter Humphreys

my god
the tide
is high
I have never
seen it so
high at night
the boiling blackness
spitting spume across
the sandy mount and
nora looks out through
the door for sight of
paudie's light and by
the spit speckled rug
his dog lies out
eyes and ears
searching the
dark and febrous
a child's cry
a candle flickers
a moth dies


Posted on 12/01/2006
Copyright © 2023 Peter Humphreys

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/02/06 at 05:23 AM

You're becoming one of my favorites, man. This is good stuff.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 03/03/07 at 11:43 PM

Don't know how I missed this one. This is well nigh perfect with its intense concentration on the high tide, the worry in nora and his dog, and for some reason I'm in love with "the spit speckled rug".

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