Thursday, February 9, 2012

Gothic Water

Wanderstill Ode

There she was waiting dressed in black, a gothic black wrapping her hesitations. Picket fence, pink sky, blue soul. Looking into the horizon made her wonder. How far? How long? It seemed forever. There she was standing, the whiteness ahead of her. A fish out of water, that feeling, that strange feeling of being in a fishing boat with Santiago and Manolin searching for the elusive marlin that in this story was a requiem shark. Dressed in black, wrapped in water, eyes in the horizon, she dreamt of lions on an African beach.

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