(for Monika in Sidney, B.C.)

After a supper of fish
and chips, our friend walks
us through her town

to tucked-away footpaths
leading to the sea—
like streams that barely

remember their lives
as clouds, their moments
as rain, now melding

into saltwater, the source
of every living thing,
including us.

Reaching the end of one
path, we stand above
the day’s last high tide,

snapping mental pictures,
hoping to remember just this
vanishing moment—

or at least the smudges
of pink in the sky, the way
they shimmy like seals

across the surface of the sea
before ducking their heads
and disappearing into

deepening shadows.