Upon the Shore

I saw her standing

Out there upon the scoured sand

The wind whipped at her hair

Which flailed against her cheek

Still wet from a passing squall

 

And I realised

As she stood, like I

Gazing out at the white crests

Of the storm tossed sea

That her soul, like the surf

Bore scars of tormented times

 

And as we passed

Upon this lonely shore

Not a word was spoken

I doubt that it needed to be

For our smiles and shared presence

Spoke loud enough.