Christina Coates

Papa

He envied the world –

the world and the eternal earth .

I carried a pebble
in my pocket –
a keepsake for you.

My word, a small grain,
a granule in my hand.
Language and rhymes were
a way to sustain you.

It was a long voyage –
my breath the tides
looking for you
down a dead-end street.
I look – a mere eye
just eyes looking past.

I thought I heard
a quiet laugh
but it was just an echo
of emptiness.

You never found us –
the place
or the moment
like a wave.

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