Driven by the guiding moon
Spring and Neap tides
furrow their season
upon the sands of time,
or timeless sands, where
granular memories
of each mountain recede.

Further, as we watch the skies
darken upon horizons,
what tide appears
to erode the stars,
until, even they,
become a memory
unstructured between our tides,
these brief lives,
composite images
strewn upon an endless beach.