The Canoe Seats Two

Standing at an island
Two feet planted
A heart in retreat
From the repeating torrent

No solace, for the river within her
Flows in its cycle
The water without her
Misses out

Her toes tingle in the sand
The desire to dip back into the blue
Would lead her so

The coarse grain beneath her
Tempers her tide
She will not hide from the outer world
For it is around her
Above the blind below