I know what it’s like to travel through a salt marsh,
mud that sucks the boots, then the socks, from your feet
until it is your bare flesh in the mud
and your legs are too tired to tear them out.
Is that when the tide approached?
You could see, a mile or so away,
the lights from the causeway, but how
could you know what lay in between?

It took a year to find your body, less than a mile
from the gated community. First they had to drain the water
and ride over what was left – the flat, salty land.