Sea Walk

Smitha Sehgal

all summer we spent in glee by the brook that sprung from lake of the abandoned moon that melted into the earth, night took nothing in return but simply glimmered on banks, its white sands lay open like shore, growing under mango trees and wild thorn that put forth a flesh-colored flower, one thought snakes slithered past slow, leaving a pattern- on such nights, we walked close up to the sea, dark waves rose high and crashed into light wondering about the silver fish we had seen earlier in the day swimming past the sea stretched for miles, along the coastal night a long-lost companion, of ships and port