How the heart holds old hurts,
remembers the last kiss on his forehead,
the final farewell.
Dads ashes, poured off the old diving rock
where he taught me,
where he caught me in his arms,
disolving in the sea.
Even now, as I swim like the
old dolphin I wish to be, I remember him,
swimming out beyond the breakers,
slow, steady, breathing deep, as if
he owned all the minutes he thought he needed.
I am reminded by a
puddle after rain,
a ripple on a lake,
a wave on the beach.
New tears
fall.