Maybe it’s part of being a mother

to haunt after the 3am feeding:
feet planted in my dreams

in the middle of the produce aisle arguing

about how many onions we need for dinner.
She was never one to tiptoe

around what she was thinking

despite her slight frame, now bones?
I teach my son to be gentle with the earthworms,

sliding through decomposition,

what masses they’re responsible to digest. 
How long will I be out?

As long as needed, now lean back.
Protocol involves sealing valuables,

rings and glasses, in a bag

and naming next of kin.
As I drift off

they say the process will be easier

if I shut my eyes and picture my happiest place.
So it had to be you, leaping

along the shore with wild excitement

only a toddler can have.
That season you were eye level

to the Atlantic’s boundless waves

swelling and breaking into a hiss of foam.  
Our favorite days were quiet and gray,

inspecting seaweed and chasing gulls,

the sky blanketed in clouds,
and no other mats on the sand but our own,

laid out carefully before the rising tide.