Your Distant Shore (for Violet Annabelle)

by Pamela Davis

You slipped from me like boulders from mountain sides tumbling toward warm clay hands that cradled you. Your father held your purple slippery body; your lips quivered and parted like continents. Resting you on the universe of my chest and empty belly breath spread through you like pink fire. You turned to gaze at the stars—our eyes— marveling at the constellations of this strange destination, of the green-pink glow of your mother's heart and voice, the voice that called you from your distant shore.