Ode on My Anchor by Trudy Shelf

 

My naked body, washed ashore

tied down by one breast,

rusted amber brown by times weariness

Scar tissue wrapped around my skin like

slimy seaweed - a reminder

of a girl, barely sixteen,

Hoping her mind was made up, hoping no

wave would come and take her away

 

Now nearly twenty and

my anchor rests heavy on my chest and

the metal bites at my ribs

I feel the sand in my hair and

the sun blossoms orange through my eyelids

I reflect on ramifications and wonder

Am I being punished by an

all-knowing feminist god?

 

I remember when my scars were baby pink

newborn

Fresh faced and the waves were frigid, falling

Now on the beach, my anchor glows

golden rays on golden, raise

my hand, I block the light

Now on the beach, I am not tied down

but warmly embraced