Queen Victoria

Looking up into the bright blue sky,
there are no clouds.
Just rays of light penetrating my fair skin
turning it an alarming shade of scarlet.

After a lengthy pause
the wind picks up and the sail becomes taut—
standing proudly against the bullying breeze.
I hope this wind stays steady.

The wind today only comes in gusts;
each one lasting just long enough to tease one edge of the craft out of the water,
before instantly plunging back into the darkness.

With careful precision I steer her clear of the buoy.
I head out one more half mile.
I wonder how much deeper I should travel.
I’ve ventured far enough.

I turn her around and find the wind again.
As the wind dies down for a moment I can start to feel the sun beams.
I point her straight and glide smoothly through the shallow pools.
The shells below slow her down and she gracefully stops.

I climb out and look out into the crystal water.
I close my eyes and feel the breeze.
So many times I have been to this island.

I had collected its shells,
swam with its fish,
caressed its white powdered sand.
I had bathed its sun.
I had never done this.

Finally I had sailed by myself,
out in a deep blue ocean
counting on the wind to bring me home.