The sun, having lit all night the moon, catches & burns the veil of the clouds. The children, distracting us from outright despair, hurry after crabs that scuttle like thread between dying & not dying, flattening their bodies out of danger beneath the sand. Our heads they hang, staring nowhere while the doctor goes on talking, talking. This hole where the sleeve caught the fence & the hibiscus hushed, almost the same as yesterday. By degrees the brightness stretches the pastel of each house, the decorative fish & tawdry nets that drape the walls inside. The trailside thorn, how it smarts & these happy dogs, like old friends, running the length of the beach despite the claps & calling to come back. Valerie says she’d like to see our children graduate & the doctor goes on talking. Such effort to encourage the light. The sand sleeps patiently near the sea. The ocean makes its home in every shell.

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