Nearly one year after,
we traveled some distance
to picnic on the slab.
The hot sun beat down,
everything bright white with light.
We shaded our eyes
to find our portion of foundation
to avoid broken glass
to clumsily collect small blue tiles
that once lined our bathroom floor
tiles bleached clean by
sun and salt and time
to see the uneven wreck of the pier
in the distant shallow sound.

My sister brought
grapes, plums, sandwiches
and water,
husband and daughter.
I brought our father
and we acknowledged
the impermanence
the insignificance
of structure
as we celebrated
the moment
the endurance of spirit.