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one

i’ve been around for a relatively long time-
the cool mist launches off waves
onto my cantankerous form
looking toward the horizon for a sign,
for a vessel to depart upon
but I will have to wait a bit longer,
my craft necessitates remaining onshore



two


we buried Chee-Wee in a decorated tin box,
silly little love bird that loved to sing
as the sun first showed its ancient face
until the moon howled through the night air

we buried her under a willow tree, alongside the beach
where waves still remind us of her delicate song,
the wind her flight and the sky her color