Motherless

on her own
in her strength
colored with the greens and blues of calm
white-crested movement
toward shore
the ocean has no mother.

on her own
she races, graceful, toward her end,
repeats, redoes, recounts
searching for a different answer
to being such an orphan

alone
the sweat and sand of hours
washed in her beauty
she, a fluid, passionate waif,
makes the journey toward shore and back


bringing herself
through ice crusting on sparkling sand
mud holding imprints of passing souls
sun baking gray sand into dust
wind blowing abandoned flutters of leaf

constant and persevering,
she alone
raises herself