Sunday Afternoon

Auke Bay was still,
save for the salty tide
rising slowly, closer
to the rock where
a lone form was perched,
staring out towards
the horizon
and tugging her jacket closer
as a presumptuous breeze
ran its fingers through her hair,
her own thoughts drifting
and tangling together
and, like this wind,
taking no direction
but wreaking disorder
preventing her heart
from rest she so eagerly desired,
and yet –
Auke Bay was still.


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