Male puffer fish create sand nests
on the seafloor off Japan to lure
females who lay their eggs
& vanish. It’s sand they seek,
not beauty. The males linger
for a week. All their work
evanesces in the deep.
My father swept my mother
off her feet. She must have liked
his sand. Their cremains are living
green in a coral reef off Key Biscayne
where sweet siren smells lure
future generations to dwell.
Don’t despair, my mother says
when I listen to the sea inside me. Adrift,
I whisper to moonfish & sea stars.