I never expected to find myself


At the beach.

But there I was-marooned by sorrow.

Isolated by grief.

I watched the crashing waves retreat.

And the roar of the ocean

Became a whisper.

Alone on the island

I found a way to be.

It was small steps.

First one then the other,

Leaving footprints in the sand.

Marking my SOS.

I became my own shelter

I hunted; made a fire.

I survived.

Darkness came

And the night sky filled with stars

But I felt their light upon me; And I knew.

Morning broke.

And the sun became a ball of fire.

High in the sky

Where there are no shadows.

And the ocean continued to whisper

And the gulls circled the air.

I had never been alone on the island.

When I found myself there.


By Fiona Lochhead March 17