But the rain
Didn’t come
Just as well
She thought
Letting the surf
Wash high up
Her pretty
Yellow
Boots
Some things
Were born of the tempest
And their beauty lies
In the storm
Hands pocketed
Shoulders hunched
Voices hushed
They’re a beautiful sight
These denizens of stormy weather
There’s a strength
In their solemn wonder
Here where nature runs her course
Indifferent to the human presence
While the humans revel quietly
In hers
Isolated
And alone
But tides turn
And so do I
So soon
The sea
Reveals
The sand
And I
Am one
With the
World
Again
And I wonder
Need I say more?
Or is there more
To say?
I could ask
What might she say?
Caught in the moment
Mind gone astray
That moment is hers
Not mine to know
Nor is it yours
Not part of the show
In the form
Of a bright yellow slicker
With matching wellies
Animated
By a girlish delight
In the roiling sea
