The Last Sea Horse

The Last Sea Horse

This woman that I knew would walk,
each morning by the ocean's edge
She watched the coral wash come in
and set her hopes up in the sand.
Her footprints scarely glazed the wet,
but followed closely, vague as wax
Sometimes she would amuse herself
with six piece settings made of shell,
thin wishes set for someone else.
She was not lovely in the way
society wished women to be,
her beauty rose from somewhere else,
close quartered in an inward depth,
she took long views on godliness.
She was too ragged for requests,
so tourists seldom edged her strand
of silent, comtemplative sand
But still, she knew the sun and tides
and all the heights the ocean rode
She knew the salt that dried her skin
in constant blows of offshore winds
She knew the brightest days could end
with rain torrents brought by the sea,
as old sea horses fell to bleach,
in sand pockets on Hindsight Beach

Reviews

[Clyde Grauke]

A very nice poem. I like the wording and cadence. The metaphor is clear and realistically presented. I particularly liked:

"She was too ragged for requests,
so tourists seldom edged her strand
of silent, comtemplative sand"

Very metaphoric with using "The Last Seahorse" as the title.
"vague as wax" Good imagery and way of expressing that yes, not everyone has to be pretty on the outside.

[Donald Meikle]

Oh Phib! I LOVE that last line!

[Emily B]

if wishes were sea horses, I guess she'd ride off into the sunset, content in her own skin. It's a lovely portrait, Phibby. One that I guess most of us can identify with.