14 – At Race Point Beach

At Race Point Beach
whorls of wind……….or ghosts
……….howl at times
enough to steal a Banshee’s wail……….or mine

mine, loud and silent
this long, slow lament
undulating months and miles

months and miles to here,
where confessions of grief
keen to wind and waves

wind and waves wise enough
to hold me up

hold me up
a borrowed resolve
‘til buffeted right again

moved
……….despite myself

Poem ©2019, Jen Payne. National Poetry Month #14 and NaPoWriMo poem. Photo ©2019, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo. For more poetry by Jen Payne, purchase a copy of Evidence of Flossing: What We Leave Behind! BUY THE BOOK TODAY!