Better Late Than Never

Waves crescendo into a mighty wisp,

crashing against the rocks.

Seagulls swoop and dive in a fury of anticipation.

But no sound.

Emptiness.

Silent echos

of nothing.

 

Memories that stop.

Always dreaming, but never dreamt.

Prelude with no finale.

All being,

but never been.

Nepenthe.

No pain.

 

In a flurry,

a connection ignites,

Memories flood forward.

A tiny hand reaches through.

Mama, don’t let go.

 

I won’t, Baby Girl.

Never

again.

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