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.