the grasses seem to crane their blades to glimpse what is beyond the edge - as the light bounces over boundary lines at the ends of the day announcing old beginnings or new endings

the moon of course is simply oblivious and in the darkness the tide brings in it's catch - releases it to be filtered among the grasses - sifting and  considering their fortune

our fears wade out through the hermit crabs looking for a stay from our anxious aversions - filtering between toes the breath of foundation - plumb lines for a codex - a stabilizing survey

satiating our need for orientation we establish topography and coordinates - but we are pulled like a sidelong gravity to a place that is all edge - the endless craving of envy and horizon