Weaned too soon
from warm salt seas
early spring April Dawn, my last baby.
We knew this together: weeks of warm motion
in friendly waters; and sudden crushing pain
that swept us past each other until
you were on the other side.

You couldn’t grow old
enough to take a breath.

The waves of storm cast you too far,
tiny girl with eyes closed against this
alien world, lost in your own universe;
silently living your enormous death
lying still in my hands.

The only sands were
swimming in my eyes.
There were no cries;
no gasp but my own,
as you left me alone.