We were on the beach again
you and I
I saw you, but only out of the corner
of my eye. When I tried to look you
weren’t there. Not gone, just
It’s not only on Mother’s Day, it’s when I see mothers
with their kids, brothers
with brothers, sisters
with brothers; my own kids, together. My nieces and nephews.
Thanksgiving and beach vacations and picnics and Tuesdays. It’s
a commercial and it’s
a song. It’s a show you would have liked.
It’s a sceintific article and a law passed and a pandemic you’d
have found fascinating. It’s being too often quiet
with my own thoughts. It’s this time of year.
The beach was empty, but for we two,
the blue sky noisy with gulls and the sea rushing, and you
vanishing somewhere between.
Peekaboo. I see you. Like when you
were little, your naughty grin full of snips and snails and
puppy-dog tails; your blue eyes more like violets
than the sky.