Ritual

Standing on the shore,

I look toward the horizon.

The sun is fast becoming a memory

In the sky.

Pink mates with tangerine against

A backdrop of blue-gray,

Dotted with off-white clouds.

Gentle waves, slightly cool,

Caress my bare feet.

Light breezes,

Tasting of salt,

Tease my auburn hair

And tug gently

At my simple white shift.