Karen Odegard

From the teal ocean

She is the waves rolling into the island,
 
each one a change, 
a learned difference from the past versions of herself.

An uncleaned shoreline, 
But that mess contains the story of each wave.

From the island a young tree arises, 

not carried by the wave,
not built by the wave,

 but given the fertile soil to spread its own roots, trunk and gifts by her.