My Fingers looked different
the day after you died;
Young, now spoiled,
And lonelier than before.

Baruch dayan emet
Blessed is the one true Judge

-----
On an old recording, a child squeals to greet a
Seagull’s call: The one that tells of supple sand
that eats our toes.
And it almost doesn’t matter, now, that
This is where you taught me how to play.
These Matters are far more cumbersome
to catch.

I learned to write my name.
the same day my father came to
bring me home from school.
And put me in car
And told me to say goodbye.

Only
In those knee-hugging dreams,
Do you tell me how it happened.
Alone, you let darkness
Cradle helpless fingers worn with age.