by Marilyn Braendeholm
I stood by the waves, they stooped white
with foam, their crest
sun, stars of cool
sea caught on breeze, and not a cloud
specked the sky, not
a gull, nor jib blown.
The day shimmered
brighter than song. And I stood there,
to me – nothing
Process notes: After a very unpleasant day, I stood at the end of Eastbourne pier, and felt refreshed by the sea breeze. This poem form is a “Minute Poem” — a total of 60 syllables. Sometimes it only takes a minute to find yourself again.
Marilyn ‘Misky’ Braendeholm lives in the UK surrounded by flowers, grapevines, bubbling pots of sourdough starter, and always keeps dog biscuits in her pocket for her blind Springer Spaniel. She never buys clothing without pockets. Her work is published by Waterways Journal, Gnarled Oak, Poetry Quarterly, Curio Poetry, Mouse Tales Press, three international print anthologies, and placed in the top 5 Writers’ Digest Chapbook Challenge twice. She blogs at The Chalk Hills Journal.