There is a word for the place
where a river meets the sea –
It’s like a melody
I heard as a child
From the back pew
Of a stained glass church,
Whispering across my skin
On steel core fiddle strings:
“Estuary. Estuary. Estuary.”
And I want to paint our bedroom
In its colors-
Foam gray,
Rippling sapphire,
Rust red,
Caramel brown-
Because I am the river
And you are the sea.