Quiet
by Elyse Hwang
the fisherman waits,
slithering water under an orange moon
his patience forgotten by the painted child
soft strokes on sunburnt parchment
she was his once,
her rosy cheeks bloomed at his arrival
home with the bounty of the sea
her tiny fingers clenching the net
until milky white scars blistered red
stay, he remembers
but the ocean’s whispers were never silenced
and when the moon was chased by the waking sun
he returned to the harbor
it was still in the morning
the water unperturbed
despite the yawing wind
in desperation, it seems
quiet never comes to the living
Elyse Hwang is a writer from the Los Angeles area. She works for her school's literary magazine and has had her work recognized by the PTA's Reflection Contest. When not writing or musing about her future, you can find her wondering where her childhood has gone.