Teem

Island Shore, July 2022

She will search the shore
For hints of distant moor
With ruins at her feet
A rule she cannot meet

In shells and vessels smoothed
By swells of nestled brood
To swim and fly in salt
Or brim and die at fault

Misty is the glass
Foggy is the past
Rarely will it last
A straight and standing mast

Water drinks the wood
Daughter thinks she could
Find a sea of meaning
In this ocean teeming

Waiting at the edge
Where ripple is the ledge
Postured for a sail
Wind will stir the vale

The key washes up
Waves fill her cup
Roaring through her voice
Gale and zephyr hoist

Deep has given gold
Woman measures bold
The islands will be tolled
And gather to the fold