A fateful howl from a northern blast
forewarned of an imminent imperilment,
for her garments provided no guard
against the frigid plunge.
Sandaled feet, short shorts, and tank top
readied her for the glistening beach
beneath blue sundrenched skies
and the joy of building sand castles.
Her heart sank as the rain came
pelting body to bone on the
long ride home on the bike
she had ridden to Heart’s Desire.
The grey bearded ferryman saw her
at a distance fast approaching
withered and weary, so weary,
wet, cold and disheartened.
A warm blanket and hot chocolate
greeted her inside the vessel.
She smiled, teeth chattering,
with gratitude for the offering.
A Great Blue Heron rested nearby
promising her journey wasn’t for
naught for she found her heart
beat stronger for the measure.
© Phyllis Weeks Rogers 3/17/2018