Permitted Daily Exercise 3

by Paula Jennings

Today, in this bay of white shells,
the waves are a restless dazzle
that tires my eyes. I’m worried
about the railing I touched earlier.

There’s the sound of a small engine
and a boat rounds the headland.
A solitary figure stands upright
in the stern, hand on tiller, no more than
slender darkness against the glare.
She radiates a quiet authority as though
she’s beyond this dislocated world.
I feel the sun warm on my back.