watching creases
in her feet
hung on the ends
of brown legs
dangling,
end of summer legs
hanging over still
water reflecting
reluctance to
shoes and pavement.
preferring docks,
salt and sailing
swelling
hours
of morning
deck feet
balanced
skipping
dancing
swimming
'till evening's
lapping,
fish friends
bring sleep
never to
shoot a seagull
nor wear it
round her neck
at home on
gathered waters
ere she could
rightly know
dry ground
or that it was good,
wishing today was
the second day
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