On Rarotonga, in the Cooks,
an oasis guarded by coral reefs—  
adrift in the vast blue ocean.  
Open, unyielding, yet few  
can approach.  
Only those who know the way.  

At Manawatāwhi,
Demoiselles and Māomao
—names painted on fish—  
dart as bottlenose dolphins leap.  

Even the strong succumbs to storms.
The mourning mother  
will never see her son again.
He lies on the shallow white sand,  
now nature’s artifact.  

And the sorrow of loss
lingers only  
in those who echoed.