My mothers death (edit 1 )

[milo]

It was the waves that roar upon the shoreline
The wind liken to a faint whistle
The gulls flew above in fluttering herd
There was a casting sun shadowed
by clouds
Strewn seashells and bodies lay

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry
"what are we going to do?" Margie said
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the feeling of
the air.

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand.

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath.my fingernails.
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into.

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm yet chilly
and there was a great view of the coast.

She didn't know why we come here except
that we had to go somewhere.

Her innocence now broken with the stabbing
As she gingerly moved throughout the beach
she didn't appear to mind.

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished.

I remember the details and the screams they both
made during the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

It was beautiful and yet a tragedy. The bookcase
was tipped over and the room destroyed by the
time they were through.

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, bleach on the floors, it
must all come out, the blood must be removed.
Lifeless she felt even in the last few breathes she
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer. .
We disposed of the body in Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing bad I wanted to ever do again.
I believe Margie might have felt the same way
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.

I look at Margie and all I can feel are
the waves that roar upon the shoreline

The wind liken to a faint whistle

maybe :

The wind, lichen too, a faint whistle . . .

it can be like a list of things you might run into at the beach.