Tide Pool Strawberry Rust

Scurry to breach our universal ceiling.

the breath of a periwinkle

Hard shells protect soft bodies,

soft bodies hold important truths.

Our breath litters Our watery ceiling,

until they burst individually

But dependent on the popping nearby.

The rust is pervasive on our floor.

Frozen lava, lined from our ancestors

Are the shrubs breathing?

They house us delicately

Let us cluster together,

those far away look awfully lonely

The air ripples the ceiling with gusts.

The cousin of our breath.

Is the air created by larger periwinkles above us?

Michael Carney