tide by Sadie Maskery

Jan 31, 2022

Content warning: death or dying

there is a beach not far away
where crabs idly pick at the shoreline
infant faces etched into their backs
scuttling sideways with the tide
eyes stare as if drowning through weeds
small busy ghosts disinterested
in our yearning as we recognise
the features of our dead child
in the swirls of a discarded shell
hear the waves through its emptiness

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