Exchange of Trust (revised 7/13)

Beneath the crusted brine and shutters,
nothing enters, nothing leaves.
Doubt, perhaps,
but nothing more.
Swollen clapboards, mildewed and mossed,
deny any exchange,
save an occasional breath of caution
or stale indignation
if one should test their integrity.
Well protected
from transactions with the sea,
the house rests, secure
in its own personal deceit
of participation
with the shore.
Yet, the tidal pools
protected by jetties below,
participate unthreatened
in an easy, quiet exchange with the influx of the sea.
Filling up, seeping out.
Filling up, overflowing.
Replenished again --
each awash, in nascent offerings of the sea,
each returning that fragile trust
by releasing life
that, until that moment,was held at heart,
as it's own personal secret.