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

Waves tease broken clamshells,

seaweed

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.

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