October is the heartless month, chasing
Sunlight with blood red leaves, painting
The earth and concrete, stealing
Last breaths of fragile grass.
Spring kept us waiting, watching
Taunting rain switch on and off, drowning
The flowers that were not ready.
Summer tackled us with Atlantic waves,
Saltwater swallowing our laughter.
Ghost crabs tickled our feet when the sun came down,
And we returned home to eat their cousins.
I was no more than five feet tall,
But I let the current take me and listened
To its stories and travels.
In the grip of my father I was safe.
He told me when to breathe
And let me go when I was ready.
I write in the light to try and make sense of what was dark.
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