Part 3: Emily Becomes Moon Manon (Last)

Today, paper-wrapped package arrived, heart-
Racing anticipation, return address of my lover,
Letter enclosed, too painful to repeat, except
My affections were not returned; my letters
Sent to her enclosed, unopened, feelings 
Unconveyed. Embittered, lonely seashores
I sought solace, in cold surf I foundered naked
Body-mind benumbed. Can life continue when
Penned words are unworthy of reading?

Whether hard wave or mind-vexing clouds,
I separated from myself, like navel orange,
Peelings parted, segments torn asunder,
Emily seawater drowned, another ushered
Forth, island wanderer: Moon Manon. Feverish
Child, memories-lost, she roamed cliffsides,
Turns of spruce and thistle, no use for pen
And paper. “My heart, eyes once knew love,”
She sang aloud. “My fate forests dark.”

Upon high shelving stone, sea-surf crashing,
Moon Manon sky-clad strayed, dress thistle-
Tatter-torn, matted hair, nervous haste,
She leapt headlong into foaming depths,
Certain death she sought, island romance
Soul-ridding. Watery light-tumbling, gasping
Breath, my soul cloud heights ascended,
Lost to every beach and sea, mist forever
Wandering against racing tides.   

Some are meant to wander. From home, some
Go no further. For now, Moon Manon, lives
My fractured life, labours of beached boats,
Hammer and nails, wood scraping, dripping
Paint bucket. Fair-faced mainland beach-
Comber caught her eye, collecting smooth
Stones at ocean-edge. No need drifting
Through life alone, they talked, agreed to
Letter writing, budding island romance.  

Thus concludes this short series of Emily poems. 
Thanks for reading.

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