our dog came first in our relationship,
our first child, our only child,
our Henry.
remember his tongue-wagging runs on the beach,
our cabin amid the paperbarks,
ocean mist coming through our window?
remember the soft call of the butcherbirds,
the laugh of the kookaburras
the only sound to wake us?
remember cups of Earl Grey tea on our balcony
while Henry slept in his basket;
the simple pleasure of our walks on the sand,
Henry running ahead on the empty beach,
ears wagging, sand stuck to his nose;
holding hands over rocks, limpets, starfish
and crashing waves that we thought would sweep him away,
climbing to the tops of cliffs, losing our way back down?
remember the mist that went on forever, covered everything,
took with it the cliff, the long stretch of beach,
Split Solitary Island;
remember the ashes we scattered on the sand,
the beach that took them, that took
the love of our lives,
ashes forever to float to the island;
our first child, our only child,
our Henry.
Lisa Reily is a former literacy consultant, dance director and teacher from Australia. Her poetry and stories have been published in several journals, such as Panoply, Amaryllis, Riggwelter, River Teeth Journal (Beautiful Things), and Magma. Lisa is currently a full-time budget traveller. You can find her at lisareily.wordpress.com.
Foxglove Journal 
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