The Scent of Waves

She inhales tendrils of smoke
and shrugs off her cloak of grief,
leaving it on the forest floor to shiver
under the weight of damp leaves.
The vapor dissolves into her taste buds,
filling her head with the scent of waves,
whisking her into a mouth of fog.
She reaches into the mist, grasping at
the fingers of her dead brother’s hand.
He was forty-eight when he died, but now
they are children again, searching for
treasure under a canopy of gold.
They race across piping sand,
falling into gales of laughter that echo
in the booming arms of the sea.
His whisper washes over her eyelashes,
pleading with her to hurry up.
She follows him into the water,
her pulse swallowed up by the ocean.