While Waiting for the Mid-Terms

Sorrows mount like high-tide sea waves
crashing against the Giant’s Stairs
along Maine’s rocky coast,
battered gulls forsaking shattered clams
they harvested and dropped
on the boulders below.

Fears pierce like chilling billows
surging into cracks and crevices
and secret tidal pools,
pummeling northern gannets
who dive into stillness beneath
the swirling surface.

Hopes buffeted like ocean’s blasts
swamping sandcastles
riffles rolling each time higher
while children dash to pick up shells
as waves recede,
determined to build again.