each day begins lifting stone from water – 3

so she found me, balanced above water,

pierced and rooted, another smooth seed

coaxed into leaf, “you are too much of the sea, living hand to mouth, blade to fire”

 

having come down river, no passing back

to the flame, palmetto bugs consume candle

consistent with wick, water oaks grow back

into the ground, branch tips rooting, thicket

tangle, verdured basketry “do you think

in shapes or living things, what seed have you

saved, what slips planted out”

 

having forgotten how each wave called your name

and every other name, sea demands the return

of songs lifted from shells, earth and fire belong

to an other, we have learned to live without

privilege of incredulity or denial, the weight

of what I have done to others, to myself,

this plight of breath, the weight fills our pockets

fills our hands, the dirt in my mouth is the buried

refusing to rest easy, “sugar, this is memory

not necromancy” poured into a gourd, salt

without ocean, distillation of the rawest spirits

flame bound to voice


Also by Peach Delphine

Read the rest