Phantom
She rose in the night
She rose in the night
her fairytale was broken
she thought she would sit up and sing ...
she thought the wind would take her voice
and throw it out over the ocean
but the pearlescent light of pre-dawn
mocked her, neither one thing
nor the other – just like me, she thought
and dwindled
far away from the everything that had been
but her story has not yet
reached an ending
and until she decides, chooses
an action a direction,
she must remain listless, ghost-pale
hovering on the outskirts of day
wondering at the restraints
which stop her utterance
and fade the sight from her eyes
as we, too, stop watching.
Sharing at Poets United's Poetry Pantry #428