by Lois Rosen

Here they go again
insinuating themselves
across rocks the size of toddlers’ fists,
scrambling at the edge
of the estuary
where the tidal pull at noon
drags the Salmon River
inland and wind snarls
hair against my face.

Purple flower clusters puff
cheerleader perky
innocent as Amish bonnets.
Oval leaflets in pairs slap
veined surfaces

or applaud the gulls
able to balance on stones.