August

chicken bone on the pavement
sky so blue
my grief, my behavement
I cry for you

2004

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Downy feathers float on shallow ripples up in to the head of the cove. A blue heron glides low into the bend. Back to school. A school of small fish linger by the dock waiting for their lesson or a bite.

Summer is fading. Dry heat. Beating sun. Soon the blue of the sky will change. After Labor Day. That baby will be here by week's end and holding in his grandmamma's arms.

This week ended Stella. This summer lolled along in melancholy like the summer we watched our Daddy dying. Nothing to do but wait and care. Care about so much time passed and whether you did enough. Loving and caring was the best we could do.

Stella loved being at Claude's Cove for thirteen years. Having her babies here. Running through the laurel thickets with Inez and swimming cross the cove. Laying in a pile of leaves all camouflage in her brindled prowess. Thanksgiving. Her spirit floats through like the downy feathers on the ripples of the waters at Claude's Cove.