October 10, 2023

Tybee Island, October

A conversation absent of chatter. 
Instead, a thousand murmurating birds.
Salt and nectar. A rebellion 
of yellow. Tangos of joy, 
and the body singing the steps. 
This feeling like everything mattered, even
the toy shovel abandoned in the low dunes.
Stories for carrying, for letting go. 
If there were clouds, we won’t remember them,
only the loose shape we made, looking up.