GALVESTON ISLAND AT DUSK

Dusk, high tide, the three-quarter moon 
a shell white, the waves curling like finger-
nails. The pod-filled seaweed   scattered
on the beach like a red bush forest. Weeds –
yellow flowers with dark brown centers – 
growing through the hot dunes. Jack running in 
and out of the surf, and me with my feet
on the lit sand, letting the tide come   and come.

Boston Davis Bostian (they/them) is a poet, writer, and librarian. Boston has been published in Right Hand Pointing, Pile Press, and THEM Lit, and has acted as principal or co-creator on three grass-roots community art projects, including The GENDER Book. Boston lives in Houston, Texas. Find out more at www.bostonbostian.com.