Driftwood
She
alone, quiet
with coastal roads,
thoughts like bird calls.
bag hitched on her
shoulder, she looks like sand,
wisped together with sea -
wind and shell grains.
grasses blow one way
on the dune, she blows many
ways, north south east west,
many ways, not on the compass
pinned to her jeans.
karenajoan
1987
She
alone, quiet
with coastal roads,
thoughts like bird calls.
bag hitched on her
shoulder, she looks like sand,
wisped together with sea -
wind and shell grains.
grasses blow one way
on the dune, she blows many
ways, north south east west,
many ways, not on the compass
pinned to her jeans.
karenajoan
1987