that day in may
steady breeze brimming
with self-confidence it pushes
against the trees that line the coastline
they sway
back-and-forth forth-and-back
arboreal undulation
infant birds cry with all the air stored in their lungs
a hunger, audible on the wind
talons on the feet of their parents
scrape and whine against metal awnings
and gutters
and cable lines
and tree branches
and stones
and light posts
and railings
muted tires on asphalt
on concrete
muffled planes at altitude
the patient transport helicopter for the local trauma center
those are the things I’d heard that day in may
instead of you
your hum your laugh your encouragement
as the waves that return to the sea
words broke us and gave way
to silence