for my newest grandbaby Chadrick Wilson River Schmeider
Loggerhead hatchlings stumble to the sea
their pathway lit with Harvest moon light.
Tethered, you tumble in amniotic waters.
Your mama's belly, golden and round,
stretching longitudinal seams.
As you drift and dream,
his ashes, your namesake's remains,
pearly and grey,
sift down to the ocean floor,
crossing turtles on the way.
As the water's break
and the cord is cut
you bobble to the surface
rising to the light,
On an exhaled breath
oxygen atoms fly away
returning to and from the promised land.
Author's note: My newest grandbaby, due soon, is named after my son's friend, who died in a tragic accident. My son's nickname is Turtle.
Won 3rd place--week 82--"Invalid Item"