Littoral

After the solstice,
expansions, slow blossomings;
light prising apart the edges
of each day. Coral over blue,
a reef of cloud dissolves in this
shining margin hollowed by footprints.
You walked here with my mother
when the sea air was mild,
knew peace from the shared years.
The shore sweeps away from headland
to lighthouse, from the town
you lived in to where you were buried.
At the last, what held you in life
was a stubborn integrity,
the desire to die well.
Not for you the singular radiance
of extreme old age, or its risk:
consciousness adrift, or partly drowned.
A half century of killing work,
prolonged suffering of mind and flesh:
your timing was right, perhaps,
able to leave us in the spirit
in which you'd lived: subtly humorous,
gently present, your stoicism
a husk round a core of acceptance;
throughout all, a wish never to impose,
though there were glimpses of rage.
For each of us a setting free from fear,
your words and silences becoming
seeds in time; taking root in memory.