sand and tide - poem

And it creeps up like a wave in a tide when watched from the shore,
there and back
and there
and back
unseen
till it's at your feet and you're
sinking. Sand. Can't lift, toes
caught,
the feeling's soft; invites you
in, accepts you
but it's not to be accepted;
don't. Too late, you've been
pulled in and held
by the grip of it
the yield,
edged in and cooled
till it's all you can do to remember
the being free,
the air.
And you're in
sucked down
and down
and ankle
knee, whole
in
It has you.
You're trapped
and it's much too late.
You
can't.