LOST

Defiant granite fists of cliff
scarred sore by vengeful tempest,
scything squall.

Towering testament
to battles fought and won;
stained by tides unleashed
of Hades quench.

Unforgiving guardians of place.

She stands atop.

Her hair tossed wild
by playful breeze now tame.
She is swathed in woven drape
thrown shoulder wide
for careless warm.

Her mirror tears
reflect his ship lost South,
beyond horizon's reach
to Heaven's sea.

Her granite friends stand firm,
remind her soul
of times when he returned,
of laughter shared,
of flesh made one,

a new life stirs. . .

a rose is tossed.