The constant wind off the bay,
At low tide,
Brings whitecaps under
The long curving dock.
The princess saint of the rocks
her golden hair with purple ends
flows down over her mermaid colored shirt
Iridescent in the muted sun
What does she perceive in the shadows
Of the persistent waves?
Gulls hang from their still stiff wings
Gliding in all directions.
My restless legs break my heart
With each step.