Morning Redux

She opens her eyes

and feels the fish 

swimming up and down

her spine, their gills,

red velvet, sieving sand.

She can only imagine

what might have been 

eroding during the night. 

She will never know.

So she rakes the sand 

into palm-sized islands 

shaped like puzzle pieces

and spends the morning trying 

to find places for them to fit.

[LSS, 12/17/21]