Tide

Growing up, up, up, and away –
yet still the pull on my surf
the surging call of moonlight
the ebb and flow of remembered warmth
and want.
My compass-dial spins –
magnetic variation shifting year on year
as poles lean and swing through tears
flowing through the drifts of time
and distance
yet still the search for our true north,
and home.
Mum, Mummy, Sister, Sis and Me –
You is I. She is Me. I is She.