Late Summer Woman

I am the late Summer’s afternoon,

After the sting has gone,

When the warm breeze kisses our eyelids closed and we breathe the moment deep, deep into our cells so we will never forget how beautiful life is.

I am the water as it settles gently around the few mermaid souls that remain after the crowds begin to leave. After the raucous splashing and squealing is done and the turtle can safely raise his head , the cormorant spreads his wings and the lilies don’t have to try quite so hard to impress the sun.

I am the body that seeks to float, the limbs that spread and buoy and I watch the clouds above me turn from brilliant white to gold and fairy floss pink.

I am the first reach for your scarf that rests lightly on bare suntanned shoulders.

I am the lift of your sunglasses pushed back on top of salt stiffened hair.

I am high heels slipped from aching feet.

I am the car window down and the air conditioner off.

I am the third chorus of your favourite song, when you know how it goes and you give yourself over to the words.

I am a glass of red wine, berries and smoke.

I am a well brewed tea.

I am the medicinal scent released like a genie from a crushed lemon myrtle leaf,

I am bare feet upon the warm ground, baked all day in the sun.

I am petrichor, the smell of rain on the dry earth,

I am the afternoon storm.

I am the starburst of light as the sun descends just below the tree line.

I am the panther,

I am my scars, worn upon my body like Gucci,

I am the waning disseminating moon.

I am the dancefloor under a starry sky

I am the promise of the night to come.

I am the call for dinner,

I am the grace at the table.

I am the soft edges, the long held gaze, the listening heart.

I am the greying temples, the dimpled thigh,

the learned and the learning.

I am the safe harbour and the wild sea.

I am the selkie who found her seal skin.