At times of dusky light,
But always, so they told, withdrew
From close and curious sight.
~ Thomas Hardy
To others she appeared anew each dawn,
trod her widow's watch above the sea
and cast her gaze along the jagged beach.
She did not look beyond the tide for me
among the ships that passed. At times
of dusky light when waking day triumphs
the stars perhaps she breathed my name
against the wind, shared secrets with the coast,
but always, so they told, withdrew
into the dewy glass. They say she
is a ghost. I am. There is nothing here
save a barren house, sand and sky
where gull cries herald shadowed flight.
She is the voice of fog, they whisper
when they turn away from close
and curious sight.
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