salt water taffy on retreat


armed with books and journal
high energy snacks and relaxed
openness she joins her winged friends
watches them do their flapper dance

studies the changing sheen
on tall green grasses--how queen
anne's lace brown
in an all day downpour

the tide dead low, allowing her to explore
the tiny creatures moving in adagio
she steps into the center of time stretched
like salt water taffy on retreat

from the sputtering noise of exhaust fans
harbour is crooning cleaner air
whipping her honeyed hair
into random curls of surrender

she's becoming misunderstood
from some who appear outside
of her soul group---and she is
beginning not to care-

for her feet are returning
to the dampened sand
with her self-respect held
between her healing hands

she touches smooth stones
and in turn is touched
by the peace of pine cones

~words and photo~kate lamberg (c) 9/11/14

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