November 19, 2019

• dear son,

  on the day you were born
  it was raining. there was
  no snow anywhere, there
  by the sea

  from that day
  until the day you died
  you loved the ocean
  and the rain

  i have kept these memories
  in a box of salt water
  where shadows of light
  rock peacefully

  inside the box there are
  shells in every imaginable color
  on the white cliffs
  there are angels watching over you--

  even though i usually don't exactly
  believe in angels,
  i see them in this box
  writing the record of your life

  and it's much longer
  than your actual time on earth
  there are patterns of light
  caught in a shifting mist

  the sea was here before we came
  and will be here
  long after we are gone
  there are reflections

  where your ashes
  add color to the waves
  in my box of salt water
  when i look up at the stars

  i believe i see the one you made

  • 5:47 am
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