Madison Hunt

Amid the ebbing tide and speckled shore,

my restless feet and soul step out to play

and soon the eighth commandment disobey

as I have done so many times before.

Disrupting this oasis once again,

such eager fingers trophies do abate.

The rising thrill of treasure dissipates.

Then I return, a Glaucus among men.


A common thief, successfully seduced.

As first fruits of the sea entice the waves

to bring the morning harvest to the sand.

I marvel in littoral solitude

How God provides this manna, new each day

To be collected by unworthy hands.