Monday, July 16, 2012


It was the whimsy, so endearing
I said to myself later at home
that turned my gaze northward
toward the unlikely sound
of a voice, rising with beauty
above the crash of the ocean
against the colossal granite
at the end of the wall

Amongst the rotting flesh and
discarded tackle of her peers,
dressed in grey trackies
faded flannel shirt and scuffed sneakers
her unruly curls defied the constraint of her beanie
as I became captive to her face,
aged, lovely, a classic Renoir,
and her unselfconscious melody

With hands masterful and deft
she baited her rod
paused to let the dolphins pass,
looked back, and cast long
a practised throw, plonk
one solitary fisherwoman,
with a song in her heart
How beguiling!