the sandman waits patiently, watches while i weep
not the sand but the salt water puts me to sleep.
my husband gently whispers,
“i’m sorry there is nothing i can do
to take the pain away from you.”
each breath i draw brings piercing in the chest
icy cold, followed by pangs of remembrance
my heart, it gently whispers,
“all of the things, wishing what could have been
now have to be done all within.”
the sandman weeps with me along side my bed
putting away his satchel and catching my tears instead.
the sandman, he gently whispers,
“i’ll collect this outpouring of love you drip
and steer your heart into her drift.”