She swims in the cove at midnight
Serene waters where she can just
Exist in quietude, the back recesses
A refuge from untidy thoughts that
Burn like embers in the bonfire of
Her mind. And as she tires she finds
That she is no longer swimming, nor
Treading water, she drifts along the
Surface, she is drawn toward the shore
And in the morning she spills upon
The beach, a ruffle of sea foam the
Shade of ancient lace, bubbles dissipate
One by two and she finds she no longer
Cares about the dreams she had for more.
