A Cradle Over Still Water
Hearing your whisper of woven shelters and sleeping above the tides, I carried a coarse mesh produce sack to the broad porcelain basin. I anchored its looped cords beneath the curved wooden rack and the base of the cool faucet, stretching the netting taut above the shallow pool I let gather in the drain. Climbing into the cradle, I let my weight settle into the diamond weaves. It swayed gently over the clear reflection below, catching the light like a small reef shelter, rocking me in slow, quiet rhythm.