Reunion Beach
In memory of Dottie Frank
The sea is calling us
home. There is nothing
stronger than that
pull; each wave dispelling
the patient passage
of time. No
beginning, no end
in the horizon’s blur,
where gull feathers
and stars are caught
in wind, swirling
above miles of sand
holding a crush
of memories.
Sandpipers scattered
at the edges
of low tide; green
ribboned steams
of seaweed
sliding
beneath your feet
as you took your first
stumbling steps
toward the sweep
of sea. Your mothers’
hands on either side
holding you up
like warm wings.
So many hours
lost in the long
sun, dribbling
watery sand
onto castle walls
gathering shells in buckets.
A red sneakerful carried
home, where bleached star-
fish lined windowsills
and brown conches circled
the garden like guards.
Your favorite grey whelk
held to your ear
before you could sleep.
You learned patience, walking
slowly through shallow water
until you found the row
of sand dollars, cold
beneath your feet,
picking one up with your toes
holding it like a prize.
Summer days spinning
cartwheels in one direction,
body surfing until the sun
dissolved over the city
and shrimp boats
lit up in a line like
a string of low-lying stars
Carving the name
of your first crush
into the hard sand
far from the tide line,
you smoked your first Marlboro
on the overgrown path
through wondering dunes.
Standing at water’s edge
with your school friends,
you watched blue and rust
cargo ships slide by the island,
wondering what lay below,
dreaming of wherever
they came from.
You brought us
the world
of this island,
its wax myrtles
and palmettos,
pelicans
flying low
along the shoreline-
each beloved object
of your home place
lining the pages
of your stories
like sand scattered
between sentences.
We will return
in September,
the month of your birth,
the month
of your death.
We will retrace your
footsteps, watch
dolphins dip in
and out of waves, as if
they are following us,
hear your laughter as gulls
call back and forth
beneath wisps
of clouds, where we
will see you
in the radiant light.