Once was a day

 

I watched her cross the stripes:

light grey loose sand, dark grey wet sand,

to the sea, blue stripe, shifting like a river,

dragging itself past.

Her dress, white flowing, a net for sunlight,

a Sorollo image, timeless, magnificent like a lily;

so sharply sculpted each movement freeze-framed;

and passers-by, all cropped to solitariness.

Each one photographed in the loneliness:

once was a day, when, beneath a straw hat,

on that strand, in that light, and the sea passing,

the sun acknowledged me.