when the moon was
red
The ocean luminescent
she was a starry
eyed girl
with a northern star
and a direction to go

Epiphanies unfold
like ribbons in
the winds

Decisions
they come
in wishful
longing
or
careful planning

Throwing caution to the wind
she took the first boat to
the island.

There he waited, an
apprentice to an ancient art
Preoccupied and isolated

She of the northern
star
had a sense of
direction

Settling into a
parallel universe

They were like
two kiwi bushes
across a fence
3 years later in
vined embrace
Produced the fruit
that never ripened
and over night
was gone.

She took the
last boat back
the northern star was
encased in fog
But
the southern cross
She couldn't miss it.