She lived in a dented silver trailer
plainly, without shine inside and out.
The window view of sea
filled her need for decoration.
Constant rhythm of wave reassurance
ever evolving color of cloud, mist, fog
always filled her with belonging.
Passersby with lipfrowning judgement
downcast look of sadness at her dwelling
would never know her truth.
She had found her community of paradise
between wind and simplicity.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Upright they stand
(weathered and disregarded)
thinking themselves powerful.
Vulnerable to elements and eyes
yet never losing their dignity.
It is clarity of purpose that
leaves them self assured
while the landscape
is transformed around them.
They will forever remain
side by side, dependable
a community of stone.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Portugal 2017
Blurred branches of feeling
the intersection of “Not good enough,”
and “You fell for that again?”
awkward limbs that cross
and cross again in confusion. While inches
of growth reach, stretch toward light.
The turbulent angles discretely covered
by feathered orange deliciousness.
A fancy distraction,
just like my sunglasses and hat
a layer of colors,
the perfect cover up to keep
my crack of failure private.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
