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At the wake’s water’s edge.

Sunlight bright

Sun blazing

Summer,

Nearly,

June 18th

Like the day you were born, except everything.

Doesn’t seem so light

Doesn’t seem so warm

Don’t care to notice the wispy clouds overhead.

I notice the wake of a motorboat,

Lapping noisily against the floating dock,

A crashing reminder of what was once here, and passed us by,

Rifling through our lightless funeral pyre

Of notes written to you on water soluble paper, they are

Clinging to the river’s surface,

Spoken but unheard,

Written but unread,

In the last moments before the current takes them under,

Away,

But not extinguished.

Love always Ari, Ilana, Mim and Andy.

Jaron

Memorial Group

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