The Shore and The Woman

There’s a shore
where she stands
just a woman and time -
her perpetual penman
with pestilent plans.

Unauthored moments
play in the sand
racing breathlessly
onwards
towards a future
out of hand.

While gluttonous gulls
fly with clocks
snatching hours
to lay
a great spread
of the maiden
to feast.

Littering, empty
seats line the shore -
the woman
invited, still
hoping for more.

Crashing
a melody
of orchestrated
waves
goes the womb,
a metronome ticking
unheard for today.

(c) Original poetry by Christine Ren (https://medium.com/@Christine_Ren)