Of Molluscs
By May Sarton
As the tide rises, the closed mollusc
Opens a fraction to the ocean's food,
Bathed in its riches. Do not ask
What force would do, or if force could.
A knife is of no use against a fortress.
You might break it to pieces as gulls do.
No, only the rising tide and its slow progress
Opens the shell. Lovers, I tell you true.
You who have held yourselves closed hard
Against warm sun and wind, shelled up in fears
And hostile to a touch or tender word—
The ocean rises, salt as unshed tears.
Now you are floated on this gentle flood
That cannot force or be forced, welcome food
Salt as your tears, the rich ocean's blood,
Eat, rest, be nourished on the tide of love.
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Our air quality was a little better on Monday, but still not great. Adam told me he and Katherine were feeling very tired after being outside, and that's basically how I felt all day. I had a big stupid organizing chore that I spent most of the day on, though we did take a walk to the beach in the afternoon and saw a Swedish blue duck, which I didn't think lived in the wild.
We watched the Ravens-Commanders game to see how the latter looked post-Snyder, though I was rooting for Baltimore -- not that it matters, pre-season, and it was a fun, close game. Then we watched the season finale of Crime Scene Kitchen (yay Amber and Yass and pina colada cake!) while waiting for Miracle Workers. Animals we saw in the tidepools on Saturday at Alki Beach:
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