Seafaring

Published by The Potomac Review - 2020

My son holds his newborn, and vents unfasten, 
releasing a power that smashes time’s arrangement. 

Remnants of my past breathe down my neck, 
linger, then splinter. The floor plummets 

and I’m between falling and diving, stretching 
my fragile habitat through dense meadows 

of underwater grasslands and oceanic currents.
Along coral reefs, I swim with sea horses. 

An enclave opens, the inevitable. 
I’m an ancient ship builder, assembling 

and fastening planks of wood together, 
paving the way for voyage. Swallowing

only light, I float to the rim of the sea 
and send a message to my son—

your pearl of the world is born—I pray 
to consequences that I’m an eternal sketch 

on what lies ahead, his belief in our blood 
and in the ways of water. 

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