Wading out beyond the estuary, searching for the spot

we buried our childhood. From the jetty I see sisters

beautiful & misshapen as river rocks. Nudge memories

loose with my tongue, slices of our house just visible

among reeds. An egret squats by the slate wall, bothersome

as a beady-eyed boy. His beak shows me where we dug

for worms, wings bold & foolish as a playground dare.

Polished our foul moods till they sparkled in the pocket

of my navy windbreaker while she hurled curses

at clouds, waiting for the river to prove itself. Mostly

she was mute beneath chestnut bangs I cut too short

while Mum slept off the fizz of vodka tonics. Speaking

for her around adults, I’d whisper advice gleaned from three

extra years of life. Forgive her with stale Custard Creams,

knowing she chose silence to keep the peace. Remember the girls

we were as I lace stiff work shoes, find her fingers in the ooze

when I unload the dishwasher, sense her smirk when I break

a glass, if the pram won’t fold. Crashing through waves

of morning when the baby cries, I wonder if she’s happy,

whether she lines her pockets with pebbles. Half-formed

vowels rumble across my ribcage, secrets surfacing as I dredge

for our remains. What would she say to me now she’s ready?