Shipwrecked

It is a wall
of honeyed trees;
the aerial view, density personified,
engulfing and pushing
the girl simultaneously.

Her body is pulled inward
by the smell of it,
something akin to seaside,
and hay in mid-day heat.

Its branches a delicate coral,
an entanglement of water
removed from the primal habitat
climbing walls instead of creeping sand,

and she wants to swim through it,
lie in it like a simpleton
as if she belonged there,
pretending for moments
that she is a daughter of the ocean.

Aleathia Drehmer 2008

Published by Haggard & Halloo 4/08