Lullaby
When a child I thought myself
A thought—
Then thought became my home—
When thought became my habit
The ocean grew
Absent above the stone
But pressed a ripple’s weight
In wave
Onto the stone. I thought myself
A child. I named her little ghost.
I brought her
Home into my thought and sat
Her on a stone. The ocean grew
Absent above her—
But pressed an ocean’s weight
In ripple on her mind, a ripple
Onto stone—
I taught her to breathe as ocean
Breathes, inspired but alone—
A sediment
For memory, a fossil for a tome.