Gap

There’s a continuous field of cobbles
two four or six inches in diameter
over which I stumble most days
(except when the tide is high)

In one place there is a gap
where the cobbles have been pulled back
revealing a gash, a smile, a tear in the fabric of the beach
its sandy underdrawers

elsewhere the algae gleams in the rising sun
startling green

from time to time something
unexpected shines through
I don’t know why