You limp and her casket

breaking open, its splinters

lose hold and this dirt

is water again, each ripple

wider and wider drags ashore

though the pebble you tossed

covers the sea with a darkness

that spends its life drowning

–a tiny rock has broken off

from your step by step holding on

forever –you walk on water, close

to the crater’s rim half wood

half storm, half where her voice

could be mistaken for moonlight

for the one stone more who in the end

is dead and you lift it

gently, lower it to your lips

as if it was a whisper or a mouth.