by Brooke Tweedie

She stood in the water with her toes speckled white

Like a beacon belonging to ocean

For her heart was a compass or a mariner’s plight

That set each ship into motion Like the moon she was radiant in power

Though half-obscured and sullen away

Like a petal of the palest flower

She withered in the scrutiny of day

Like a spider her fingers were secret

And tangled in silk divine

Like a gale relentless and frequent

Her siren song silenced time

Each vessel approached in fascination

Paths set to the monolith ashore

They saw a maiden wading in patience

Clothed in the whispers of a storm