The sky was dark when we got the call.
We rushed to see you
I was a hatchling
absorbing sunlight for the first time

Stumbling
Speechless
Breathless
it just made sense.

I passed right there.
Hatchling to turtle to dust--
in the breeze, to the sand.
I was the shore.

The moment I saw you
Time stopped
as if I were at the bottom of a pool
for a second too long

The iridescent bulls-eye like waves
keeping the air from my lungs.
We belonged right there
surrounded and safe.

I was my esophagus,
obsessed with oxygen.
Obsessed with you.
The ocean released and

I could see with hazy vision.
Your eyes were closed
I knew I would be the first
to show you the world.

Bury me with my poppy.
My greatest memory; my simple joy.

Spring time brings brightness--
colors other than white.
A flushed landscape from

stamen performing as paint;
replicating a sleepy orange
yellow, green, red

I contemplate picking the poppy
to keep for myself.

Life feels large
like the sparkling lake--
that cold sunny hour when you sat
by a fire bordered by icy rocks.
The earth sheltered in poppies.

We all expect moments without an end.
Post-bloom petals fall flat before falling away.

Miracles can be a curse or a blessing,
brave or cowardly,
Swallowing up certainty.

Poppy tears
slowly release memories--
a crisp deliberate euphoria.

I leave behind the orange flower.
Appreciation is not lost.