Three Women at the Estuary

The first one flew away

before we had time to say

barely hello.

The geese honked derision

at the fumbled fond words

I  hoped to snare her with

.

The second danced 

between the tides

where witches are supposed

to hide.

She knew too much

of everything,

so I froze the tide

and sent her away.

The third woman laughed 

away the storm,

untied the frowning skyline

to let the starving river 

breathe.

So she and I will stand

awhile in silence

at the estuary.