Albatross Airport

I recall the moment you let the ashes fall,
Scattering them like birds over a busy airport.
The way your hair blew sideways in the ocean wind,
Silhouetted by a spouting chasm beneath the coast,
Told me that perhaps humans, too, could fly one day.

How the tides look like runways for transcontinental birds.
If I had wings, I’d run into the ocean,
Outstretching them before the windy beach carried me aloft.
The horizon is an avian precipice
Unbound from the sky yet attached to it by color.
Out there, on a sunny day
You can’t tell whether the white caps are wave crests or albatross.
 
Hazy ocean sprays on the road ahead of us.
Bring us that horizon, you boundless coastline.