Poetry
Low Tide
by Vincent Hostak
There is no explanation for the ocean
nor the puzzle of tides,
that would satisfy more than a sober mind.
Those strange, small creatures in fleets
scrambling across inshore waves
are gone as soon as the joy they made-
like a singing telegram.
Once you stood where the backrush swelled.
It made a shallow drink,
and you felt the water at its warmest
glazing your ankles.
Grief and elation, twins bathing, twirl in a saltern
and will varnish the sand.
Look, the whitecaps in the shore haze.
Listen, the far crests carol.
Author’s Statement on Low Tide
Grief and love can be said to be kin or twin forces. I wrote this poem for a friend, who was grieving the loss of a good friend and artistic contributor, attempted to honor the nature of her grief experience, which was unapologetically public and I believed, because of this, be mature, healthy, and very probably helpful to her and others. As she said, paraphrased, I need to do this in my way and the experience is sometime terribly sad and other times ecstatic…it is unpredictable, but beautiful.
About the Author
Vincent Hostak is a writer & media producer from Chicago, Austin, and now residing near the Front Range of Colorado south of Denver. His recently published poems are found in the journals Sonder Midwest, The Langdon Review of the Arts in Texas and in ongoing contributions to the Texas Poetry Assignment. He writes/produces the podcast: Crossings-the Refugee Experience in America. Find his blog, Wild, Abandoned at: https://vincenthostakdigital.com/.
