Ebbtide

she sat there with only one tear rolling alone to drip between her knees
Splattering on the tidal flow below.
Cross legged with ankles aching on wet jetty stone
Cold wet jetty stones gathered from God knows where
By God knows what and re planted to keep the harbor open
for running tides and shallow keels

The time it takes a hot tear to cool depends on speed and touch of fickle wind
The onshore salt wet slap against the rock beneath her was no fickle tickle
The larger driven waves of displaced wake were soon to drench her useless evening dress in saltier tears of moon drawn echoes than her eyes had ever bled

What puzzled her was the complete lack of feeling while knowing the onslaught To be so imminent. The ream of words of feelings past rolled tightly in her huddled arms, had told a tale of woe and hurt and love and joy and dancing swirl of pipes a skirl in calling whirl that brooked no answer from this girl as patiently she sat on legs that carried her to reach this edge of reason lost for she was unaware of cost
The clan was nevermore The hillside burned in sunset bright in this the middle of the night and all the ghosts of freedom yearned to save the soul of this one lass
who carried in her womb the last the hope of past attempts.

Morning found her there still sitting, smiling in the pouring rain listening to soft refrains of ebbing tide as once again she rose to meet another day of unremitting pain. But she had found an answer in the rain. The clan would rise again.

Reviews

[Gandré]

Donald, you know...this was so beautiful. It made me cry. I had to think about Slovakia and the time I lived there. this is really beautiful poem. Forgive me that I came so late to read you. I like your subtle melancholy, this is so pure, that 's why I like to read you always so pure, natural flow.. you don't need to fight for rhymes or expressions, your writing - even now written from the positon of the observer - always is intensely personal and shockingly touching.

[Dave "Doc" Rogers]

More bardic refrain than classic poetry but I will take it. :) Never quite telling until nearing the end what had happened in the story, but from one who knows a clan need start with but one. You finish your tell with of grief deep with a deep settling in the heart of young woman with ties to her history that go beyond some persons' understanding.

Good show. Some places not as strong as I thought they could be but that may be differences in opinion only. Thanks for sharing.

Cheers!
Doc.

[J.P. Bristow]

This was gorgeous -I mean I could almost touch her. fantastic write and an even better read!!!!