Tethered

I’ve long ago learned to ignore the rhythmic tug of the chain that tethers me to the ocean floor

A chill curls around my painted stripes as fog rolls toward a distant shore and wave powered bells warn those sailing near

I hear passing ships cutting towards the golden gate and imagine their carefully stacked containers swaying in the swells

Later fog fades and california’s sun steams dew from my metallic frame unveiling the shore’s outline once more

A seagull pauses perched and chattering singing me stories until trade winds lift her to dance above white caps

Soon the season of storms returns bringing fierce waves and wind to power the peals of my warning bells

Deep in winter mist freezes to my metallic skin crafting turquoise crystals that flicker in the moonlight

But in time calm and warmth return lit by the moon’s waning crescent mirrored on still water’s glass

Do I measure time in seasons? Or dawns and dusks? Or count the cycles of frost freezing then dripping melted down my spine?

Or do I set aside time and count the swells? Or passing ships? Or pods of dolphins, shivers of sharks, colonies of gulls?

I dream of one day of being released from my tether, my work complete, transformed into turquoise sea glass smoothed by tides and resting on a shoreline beach waiting to catch the eye of a strolling passerby