Every ninth wave turned red,
The ones in between, were dead
and grey, as her day was, her past,
The man with the biggest pay-check
had the biggest mouth, her job he said
almost went south, without her.

Alone with her thoughts instead of
wearing beer in sleeves, her eyes
wearied from tears as she drove here,
no co-workers to try to cheer her heart.

heart, red, same colour  as the waves, every ninth
now fading with her sobs,
fading red and she knew there was
going to be no moon tonight.

Music played from across the bay
as a crab scuttled to avoid the smallest waves,
the fireworks would begin, to light fires in the distant sky,
the mushrooms began to glow about her
near the blanket of sand and grass.

She tilted her head back
and looked at the stars
begin to be lit by the night
and kicked her heel and struck
the ground hard, there was no soft
sand but a cloth bag and an
object hard, tied inside.

There was no scent, no stench,
she hefted the bag with two
hands and untied coarse twine
rolled back soft fabric open to find
a large golden egg easily
even in low light, suddenly

she looked around quickly
the only noise was that, that
the dark always made, but
in her mind a noisy trap door
to freedom fell open for her.