The Friction of Salt


woman at sea

Image from Shutterstock


Pieces of her broke in the waves,
Searching for wildness
In this place she always went to be alone.
She walked along this shore a thousand times
In the dawn and the dusk
As if they were quantities unknown,
And thus, in them, she could discover some truth,
Some faith, some charity, some hope for herself.
Who knew? It had worked before.
She’d walk toward the town with something—
Some small bit piece replenished.

She’d always heard salt was healing,
So she figured she’d rub it in her wounds.
But bloody red and raw
She walks still wounded, broken,
Along the wildness,
Yet not touching it.
Freedom elusive.
She can not find what she lost.
Her wounds chains,
Binding her still
To things she knew illusions.
She waits for the friction of salt
To rub away the chains.
She walks toward the seals in the surf
And on toward the whales in the deep,
Searching for truth or faith or charity
In the wildness of the sea.


Published by

Annette Kalandros

I am a retired teacher, enjoying everything that retirement means. In addition, I have been active in the LGBTQ community since I was four years old and marched my Ken doll with all his little Ken accouterments to the big metal trash can in the yard. Yes, I dumped Ken, along with said accouterments, into the can and slammed the lid on. My two Barbie dolls lived happily ever after.

14 thoughts on “The Friction of Salt”

  1. reminds of lines from the Wide Sargasso Sea, I have a deep connection with the sea and so your poem really means so much to me. some faith, some charity, some hope for herself – so beautifully said

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I’m honored by your kind words, and now you’ve given me something to add to my reading list as I haven’t read, “The Wide Sargasso Sea.” Again, thank you!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh my… this one has a powerful affect on me… as I sought purchase on my own personal recovery after a very difficult period in my life… I would sit on the beach and look out with these kinds of thoughts haunting me… thank you for this, thank you for helping me see gratefulness for having found the purchase I needed.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I am grateful for your kind words. This was originally written almost 5 years ago when I traveled to Provincetown, MA a few months after the death of my wife. It was a time of healing and finding the purchase I needed.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Your comment makes this infinitely more powerful of a poem. I am glad you found your purchase after such a loss, and my deepest, if very late, condolences for your profound loss. Provincetown was home to one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver, so it does not surprise me that you, like her, found purchase and poetry there. I went when I was just a boy and barely remember.

        Liked by 1 person

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