The Sand Woman

On the isle of Namow
When the breeze catches the delicate grains
Lying, lazing on the beach
She rises to meet the wave of the sea.

Carefully sculpted by a soft spray
She turns to face the water
Bidding the sun goodnight
And begin her inland journey.

The wolves sound with her first steps
Howling, teeth bared,
Desperate to take a piece of her
Back to their den for a midnight snack.

She strides forward, entering the brush,
The beasts squawking and barking in delight
Greedily greeting their visitor;
But her stride is steady.

She climbs the incline,
Bombarded by beaks and teeth and claws
Scraping, tearing, ripping
Leaving a sprinkling of sand on the forest floor.

The hounds break ranks and charge
Leaping viciously at her body
To devour what part of her they can;
But she continues, her face to the canopy.

Her arms are shredded
Her frame wobbles and wavers
Ready to collapse at any moment
As chunks of her coarse flesh are robbed from her.

She reaches a clearing, and the moon disappears
Paralyzing the animals in the bush.
The gentle wind embraces her broken figure
And, grain by grain, carries her back to the sea.

Scattered among the ripples in the water,
She will piece herself back together
And when the sun next passes through the sky,
She will begin her journey again, whole.