She walks toward me across the sand
Vacant eyes and tear stained cheeks
She reaches up to take my hand
I look and ask, "What is it you seek?"
Words are formed within my mind
As she tells me of her parents lost,
She sobs, her home she cannot find.
All that's left, a single post.
A woman cries upon the sand
Muddied clothes, and bloodstained hair.
She reaches out to touch my hand.
She takes the child and hugs her there.
While walking back across the sand
I see in the flotsam lying there
The lady and child, hand in hand
Lapping waves gently stroke their hair
Robin A Spicer 3rd January 2005
A brilliant, painfully-felt, vivid masterpiece.
Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen