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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