Sand Dunes

The sounds of waves thrashing,

drown out my mother’s voice.

But is speaking

with nobody to listen,

not the exact same

as the waves thrashing,

for no one in particular?

Does it make a difference?

Maybe,

though guided by the moon;

they act.

Not on impulse.

My mother:

the manifestation of human impulse;

or sovereignty,

she would say.

Can one who has never stood in line,

draw one?

Does it make a difference?

We return, turning our backs

to the coastline.

Climbing the sand dunes;

my mother

in front of me.

I plant my feet

where hers have been.

Assuming it makes me

tread lighter.

Wondering whether

it makes a difference.

design by alyssa dalto.

13.04.2026