I step back from the light
into the dark
my wife rocks
herself to sleep
in my favorite chair.
On the beach
I want to fly but fall like
a silent prayer.
My limbs are an anchor
as I slip beneath the surface.
Once struggling palms lie flat
as gentle waves rock me.
Seaweed strands of hair mingle
with the sigh of my breath,
I grasp the hands of my
companions,
my only thing of value.
Everything beautiful is here,
all that was lost.
Birds chorus to the stones that
mark the resting place of a
thousand warriors in an
estuary of flowers.
art by Abel Tasman
