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
