I won’t speak. The gulls would give
you enough. I learn how light
traces water when waves cleave.
I know you left me
before you went, and silence
means more than sound.
Some of those stones near the shore
are supposed to only be near.
If you want the show and splendor
of my sorrow, watch gulls
on the sand, how they settle it
down. Count the steps
they take to reach rock. The beats
they need to ascend.
Remember the future you will make:
it holds no hint of me.