is sweeping out to sea;
slapping in the tide pools
of cold salinity;
slapped against the slippery stones
with pink anemone;
not alone, but lonely,
with no one's company.
Sun's rays may come
and dry me out—
wave blow me back to sea,
but will I know just who I am,
or who I'm meant to be?
Kat Mortensen©2011
