Grief

It ricochets off the walls,
a push here, a pull there,
on the hunt
for a weakened seam.

I know
if it finds one
it will unfurl
and fill all the space

like an automatic lifeboat
expanding,
sucking in all the oxygen,
a balloon
of unwanted air.

Until fully bloated
it displaces everything
and crushes it
beneath.

So I clutch my fingers
over my belly,
and will it
to stay
inside.

Reclaimed

Reclaimed

Hot sand refracts and cakes
gritty on sinking soles.
Mirrored shards in waiting
reflect the wave’s laughing children.
Their foamy tongues lap and tickle
between grips of loamy toes.

There for an instant they hang
until reclaimed by their mother.
The sea’s grasping hairs
pull rivulets in undertow
and the very ground beneath me
disappears.