She Stands
She stands
in contemplation. Her thoughts
composed, complete
in concentration. Framing her features
her hair hangs limp;
silver bleeding
from the roots.

Exposed;
she exhibits
her bleach-worn failures,
the sun’s peroxide
stripping back years.

Around her
a beach so bleak. No horizon.
She watches, sifting,
seconds slipping
between her toes,
like sand
She stands
in silence. A stillness
adorned by waves
crooning. Calling
the morning,
which slips from her grasp.

Momentary,
the strokes of surf
like fingers seizing
grains of time.
Shards of history
softened,
gently.

Hands are creased,
palms etched with time.
Her eyes
cast to the ground. Crow’s feet
stretching skin;
elastic, like thought. She glimpses
down,
sees the crumbling remnants
of her shattered past.
Furrowed brows,
a pause -
inspiration;
salvation from her flaws.