Mother of my Mother

Did I breathe you in?

The salt spray of your bones,

The gust that blew you over the frosted caps.

You fell from my hands:

Grey, eggshell and sediment,

And I felt the absence of you in that fierce opening between my collarbones.

I fell into the bitter blue

And tried to feel you washing over me,

In my eyes, ears, between my toes.

But my hands came up empty,

The rippling rivulets a poor substitute

For a warm shoulder and a quiet laugh.

The prints from your feet have long faded,

But once again the substance of you disperses these waters –

A lonely mist at the bottom of the sea.