Nymph

image borrowed from bing

Nymph 

“One should lie empty, open, choice-less as a beach--

waiting for a gift from the sea.” --Anne Morrow Lindbergh

His most cherished

moment, after banishment from fog,

bathed in golden

afternoon sunshine was

watching her strolling along the

neck of that

black beach, still

slick with the wondrous wetness

of outgoing tide;

silhouetted tiny against

the girth of the nearest

largest sea stack,

at the base

of a tall rock, where

a lone fisherman

stood like a

cardboard cut-out, grasping his

big saltwater pole,

with the sunlight

dancing around him on waves,

rippled by wind.

She stood poised,

as she considered dashing between

the receding waters,

and then decided

against it, quicksilver frozen in

a blue tableau,

perched like a

white heron stilted on driftwood logs,

before taking flight,

as he finally

understood her love for the

sea, the forces

that pulled her

from the city regularly, letting

her run free

on ocean beaches,

wandering, meditating, wading, waiting to

salute the sunset.

Glenn Buttkus

February 2013.

This Collum Lune posted over on dVerse Poets OLN

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