they all want to know
(yet no one really wants to)
how much it hurts. Hurts.
it’s in a painting
the storm-washed sea, blue background
the broken cable
it’s in this beach day
(today’s my uncle’s birthday)
and we can’t go back
here we are, singing
because it’s all we can do
after the long drive
three states, three hours,
a short capital lunch break
before breaking waves
Mythili
you start off
the 7-8-9 club
weaving in and out of rocks
your memorized lyrics giving way
to a new generation of song
Isabella
always in charge
you lead two-year-old cousins
on adventures far too grand
for any grown-up to understand
Riona
cousinly love
brings you out of your shell
all day at the beach
your words free for everyone
respite on the sea
if only boats could decide
which way our bow points
Maine beaches of youth
please a new generation
cousin love abounds
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