When the sea is glitter lit,
the sky pied and beauty bent, I pause,
stop to rest on a bench with a bronze plaque
installed: For Millie full of life and valor for hers and others.
The planks ground down by salt,
rough with chiseled initials, one word
(love) neatly placed. On unfenced grass, a man
throws a Frisbee low and long and grey-blue pallor sifts
across the river of yellow bloom where mothers sit content.