Sediment

Sandy skin, the hands of a man,

Rest on my taut shoulders.

Though you are granular, returned to the sea,

With each breath of vapor 

You return to me.

I hear you whisper

About the light in my soul,

And your travels upon

The never ending whale’s road.

I see names 

Sketched in every ripple,

But your name rests

On the glistening foam.

Your hands never lost their memories.

Lingering between the elements,

In each piece, 

Each small grain upon endless shores,

Is your sandy grasp

Resting upon my shoulders.