Clouds lower from steel sky and spit rains upon the beach.

Waves tease broken clamshells,


Coke bottle

a lobster pot

herring gulls hide among the rocks.


A Gloucester crone pokes along the sand.

A weathered oar steadies her step.

Cropped hair sets off her burnished neck.

Leather belt cinches layers of sweaters, flapping trousers.

A walking Giacometti sculpture.


She pauses, turns toward the horizon, traces a circle on wet sands.

Fills it with squiggles: her morning greeting to the Goddess.


Her ritual complete, the crone slopes ahead.

Listens for the next whisper.