Pull

Pippa Phillips

by

The moon a lure
for whom the tide bears
unrequited love,
always reaching
but unable to bridge
the distance
to her pale shores,
a drowning dream that dies nightly,
evaporating under the glare of the sun’s waking eye.
Suppose the chain
of gravity broke,
and the oceans spilled free
and trimmed unseen sails
to navigate the cosmic circumstances of the sky.
Would its life still
without an orbiting body—
or would the Earth become its new dream,
its pull a promise,
a dream of once was water?

Hailing from Cape Cod, Pippa Phillips is a recovering academic currently marooned in the Midwest. She misses shoreside phosphorescence and bonfires on snowy beaches.