At the end this sand coming by
covers you with soft flowers
that long ago dried as footsteps
still treading inside some shallow grave
smothered as afterward and dust
–you loved her the way the Earth
keeps warm and between two suns
place to place what’s left
you walk without looking down
though your arms are closing
have grown together a single fingertip
touching these shells and pebbles.
— Simon Perchik
Simon Perchik also has poetry appearing in Partisan Review, The Nation, The New Yorker and elsewhere.
Editor’s note: This imagistic and surreal poem might have many interpretations. One of them is suggested here with an image of a mysterious cross encrusted with marine sediment and organisms that was washed up on a Ft. Lauderdale beach (https://www.travelandleisure.com/syndication/fort-lauderdale-beach-cross-washed-up ) bordered by roses from clip art—life contrasting death.