sand beast

The drifter reaches to return to the sea. Too much weight here. Sure, there aren’t as many parasites and hangers-on but there’s no cost that can outweigh the pleasures of weightlessness . On sand, limbs are stiff and terribly heavy. Fog is a deceit. It is water, but a kind of water that’s full of gravity. There’s no seeing where the land ends. The drifter remembers a time when it was anchored by gravity, pulled toward “the heart of the world.” It has surrendered to “earth’s intelligence” and lived its life fully grounded.  That time is gone. It’s time to float on that strong ocean current. But it’s held in place by the sand and there’s nothing to be done but wait. So, for now, the drifter stays and waits for the water to come and redeliver it to the weightless world.