My mind is my grandchild

We sit on the beach,

my arms and legs about him.

He rests against me. I feel

his curls under my chin.

We watch the waves.

We watch light on the waves –

its quick crowd,

passengers changing trains.

We listen.

His anxiety comes and goes.

He speaks of it, asking,

Is it time? When?

He is a good boy

and sits still.

I hope he will absorb this beach.

I hope it will stay with him.

Then, coming down the green steps,

loaded with his baby sister –

his mom, his dad.

Can my mind unlearn

anxiety? Attend to

what is – and what will

continue to be here long after

my mind?