Swim
The oyster clamped upon the reef in shade,
A patient stone the shifting tides had made.
It caught a sound that trembled through the brine,
A whisper coiled like promise, sharp, divine.
“The world is yours,” the ocean seemed to sing,
An unseen crown, a clear commanding ring.
It wrenched from rock and broke its ancient hold,
And drifted out where darker waters rolled.
It called the voice a fate it must obey,
And swam where darker waters ruled the day.
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