The hottest day of the summer. 
Know it must be. 
See the sea birds wheeling out to sea, 
see them catch the breeze we don't feel 
and turn and turn above the glittering. 
Pass the water. 
Pass the salt. 
See the children running down the path, 
so small now, 
down the path toward the glittering, 
see one fall now. 

My husband's hand in the sunlight. 
Know it must be. 
See the salt white white held out to me, 
taste the crystal mound in his palm. 
Feel fingers crush to dust the glittering. 
Pass the water. Pass the bread. 
Know a hundred million years 
from now, 
here no sea birds, only glittering 
mounds of salt. 

See white lights… 
See strange buildings… 
Think they were not here before now. 
Know I am not where I was now. 
Feel I’m frightened. 
Where is my husband? 
Where are the children? 
There is a storm coming.