Death by Water

I HAVE not seen the wind.
But I have seen the dun,
The printed, skeleton
Of wind upon the sand.
The ribbed and shelly shore
Where wind has lain, alone
Retains the shape, like stone,
Of her and of her hair.
The ripples that have reached
Wherever she has stepped,
And found her as she slept,
Are not to be escaped.
What never has been stilled,
What never has been seen,
With fingers that are green,
White foam has caught and held.
MARTHA KELLER