On-Sea Observations

Prose by Ada J. Raven

False and wilted silence with talking in the background…

quite the paradox.

The surrealist nature of the setting pleases me.

I can hear the magpies and waterfowl chirping,

screeching at each other.

Why do I not move?

Why am I sedentary?

My eyelids are heavy and my head swims,

but I don’t fall down.

I notice the rusted gate

in the window with what

looks like a Sankofa heart

on top of another, like the

one on my ankle but double.

It’s beautiful, rough, and craggy.

The air is peaceful and I think of

reading my book.

Maybe I’ll find some new synonyms to use…