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.