For our brother Lou
We always knew we would lose you.
The youngest child in a gaggle of cousins,
at two you wandered down the beach,
I am the Boss embossed on the bottom
of your toddler-size bathing suit.
An hour later our frantic search
ended when you waddled back to us,
sat your sturdy behind on our blanket
and picked up your shovel & bucket
still wearing your plastic sunglasses.
At five you got lost on the boardwalk,
strayed miles from us and from our hotel.
Later we found you were brought back
by a cop, whom you had the sense to tell
the name of the place he could find us,
Normandy a word you somehow knew,
its letters in neon green and blue,
though I’m sure you could not read it.
