At 4am the tide in the Bay had reached the end of its outbreath.
It was time to abandon my mother’s ashes to their sea-womb.
Given a name like Miriam, where else would they be at home?

shimmering stardust
arching
over rippling moonpath

frangipanis afloat
like Peking knots on
silken blackwater

my mother’s ashes
scattered
over the tide-turn
of the Coral Sea

this crazy love
– sleeves wringing wet –

clutches

its only firm footfall
on time-sucking sand:

this changeless
inescapable
Awareing

– miriam louisa