Dilapidated, she sighed
Dappled by filtered sunlight
Faint birdsong under the arbour
On the porch, five geranium pots
called ‘The Garden’, overlooked
a rough path edged by jagged rocks
and a promised ‘Ocean View’ blocked
by a seawall, a perch for pelicans
A pebbled doxology, he nudged
Waxing poetic, and they decided to stay
to observe developments discreetly, hoping
to find something that seemed to be missing
in this shabby echo of something they knew
The place had few amenities, and yet within
the old Hotel Toro’s crumpled, tired façade
no illusions seemed to free them to stay
to observe and listen, as sea light reflected
In a thousand ways, a certain timelessness
took over, letting them relearn happiness
a sensibility of being, almost forgotten
until this wanting place had found them
©2012 S. Michaels
Breakaway – Spreading Wings
