Pestered

I was bathed
by the tidal rush.

As the water troughed
between waves

something
clung to my hair.

My eyes
refused to look

at what my hand
felt damply

in case it was
a star

fallen elsewhere
into the sea

and just now
washed

upon my head
mistakenly

believing I was
an astronomer

and knew its place
back in the

heavens
day or night.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney