The stones from volcanos,

The shells from the sea,

Make paths ever winding

The center a tree.

A mini-tattoo

On the surface of sand,

A curving anomaly

Planted on land.

Laura can’t see it,

She’s given her most,

The ghosts of the day,

Play impromptu host.

The land swirls around it,

The sea and the air,

The clouds have their pathways,

We cannot compare.

A tribute is given

From husband to wife,

And she is remembered,

Her spirit alive.