Waters Rising

The golden-faced moon
hangs low in the purple
night sky,
close enough to light the ocean floor,
to peer through the deep
with squinted eyes,
to wink at those within.

She lights a path across
waters that shift and dance
in her light;
an unceasing ebb and flow,
they bubble slowly
as if rising to some
unknown occasion,
as though they may be on the brink
of spilling across the land,
submerging the forgotten relics
of the sun-drenched daytime.

In the almost-darkness
it seems the water
will just keep on rising
until it swallows the land,
until it comes for me.

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