leaning on her staff
shuffling barefoot
she wavers slightly
heavy with the moon’s dark spill.
a raw star whispers from the foam:
tell me a story about me and the sea.
so she speaks,
spilling salt and history,
rocks rattling in her pockets,
strands of silver falling into green,
as dusk crabs scuttle home
and the sky becomes womb-red—
another cycle she must carry.
leaning on her staff
shuffling barefoot
she asks the waves:
how many more moons?
*17/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day.
**All photos are mine, taken with an Olympus E-M1 MarkII and edited with Lightroom Classic.
Bridgette Tales 
Love this Bridgette, haunting and atmospheric.
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So glad, Roy! I appreciate you reading so many of these ❤️
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This made me determined to use a staff instead of a cane if and when that time comes. I will wear a hood and grow my beard out long.
And then chaperone the twins prom.
They’ll love it.
Thanks for the portrait.
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I love that! I’m embracing that part of myself and might seriously consider making myself a cloak to wear. I’m growing my hair out too, feeling like it’s part of this new chapter of my life-the old woman by the sea.
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We can get our hermits on! I’ll come down from the mountain and visit your hut by the sea and you can come visit my mountain shack.
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Sounds like a plan. Make sure you have deep pockets for collecting sea shells.
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And you, for the pinecones. We’ll corner our respective markets. 💕
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Very nice. I like the connection of the different meanings or similar words: cycle; “she wavers” “she asks the waves”. also bringing in the moon when speaking of cycles.
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Thank you, I’m finding that it’s been good to have this fast pace. I’m not able to sit too long in self doubt and it’s really pushing me.
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Beautiful. ❤️ I was transported to the beach! We all wonder how many more moons at some time in our lives.
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Thank you so much, John. I’m turning into the old woman of the sea I think.
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You’re welcome Ilze, and I highly doubt that. I’d love to be in your age group again, whatever it is, its much younger than me for sure. 😊
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Very musical, and deserving of being set to music!
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You think so? Thanks!!
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Yes, perfect for a 1970s Genesis ballad. Very evocative.
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The poem reads like a meditation on memory, patience and endurance. Beneath its fairy-tale atmosphere lies the story of someone who has quietly borne the weight of time and life’s recurring cycles.
”as dusk crabs scuttle home
and the sky becomes womb-red—
another cycle she must carry.”
Those lines contain stunning imagery, and upturn the emotional register decisively.
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You are so kind! Thank you. Being beside the ocean changes and opens me to in different ways each time.
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