pm poetry

Tiny crustaceans
thrive inside
the swash zone by
burrowing into gloopy grains.
They wait
for shorebirds and water
to fall away.
Then, surface and scuttle
across the glazed terrain.
Incomes another wave, and
down
down
down they dig.
Eyestalks pop up from
salt-drenched sediment.
These creatures aren’t clever,
nor are they the quickest.
But they’ve evolved in violent breaks
and survived by
pure resilience.