My wooden feet are in the mud

My wooden feet are in the mud
Little waves ankle-lapping

In plank, joint, plank, spaces
I’m holding the warmth
From the sun. Please knock
(Yes gets louder)

Then place down your hands
Maybe both of your hands

Rest your everything, or
Sit at the edge, with
Sole rippling, palms steadying

You can swim away, and
(I would love to watch you)
My wooden feet are in the mud