POEM TITLE Our Lady of Blackness
POEM
She carved out the rocks
one wave at a time,
sometimes patient, flowing
gently, but many nights her
loneliness oozed into crashing,
beating and taking her lust
out on the land. From the dark
wash, she watched Blackness
born, of salt, of braw. Her salty
waves lap as proud as a mother
holding her firstborn, against
the ship that never sailed –
she is the scales that balance
the destiny of this town. Her
hair tangles the winter storms
and makes the wind soft
against the Lobster Pot, a call
to the wild, open for all seasons.
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