She sat on a rock

Looking out at the Sea

I don’t know why

People gaze

At the ocean,

Is it the commotion

Of  motion of water and wind

The wistful wish

To find something one’s lost

In the mist

Or not yet found.

The round of her breast

The calling cleavage

Yes she was hot

But it was not

That kind of stare,

Or was it…

Her hair falling down

Caressing her shoulders

Warm in blue denim,

A dress of blue

Could it be cotton

With a flowered print

That I can’t remember.

Sunglasses set

In lookout position

On top of her head

An ache in her eyes

In spite of the sun

A kisser’s lips

Strong gentle hands

With face holding

Fingers,

And her look…

Like looking

Out at the ocean.

© Stephen Nesbitt