Who is she
this woman of silk
outlined among the rocks?
She sits perched
like a muffled silhouette
some distance off
in this silent, deserted spot
where the sun throws its fire
on the water and copper
licks at the shore.
The tide will stir and rise
in endless ebbs and flows,
the azure of the sky
the roof of her world
when she dreams,
absorbed, fragile as china cups.
© 2012 Louise Hastings


