after Langston Hughes Dangerous levels of forever chemicals in ocean spray don’t scare us Our blood collects plastics We roll up sleeves touch water to cheeks and crowns Bluetooth croons to lymph nodes Our ferry glides across water WiFi unavailable What is left to do but stand outside and gaze at God? I’ve known ocean I’ve known ocean unable to be paused for commercial break I’ve seen Ella Beach waves laugh at my plans for a quick hello Water doesn’t care about silly things like clothes I walk in Surrender Float Succumb to sun glint Let wind lick face until bells thrill though ears Look south across the straight See the tip of Washington state my country of origin My daughters north of my body on the shore My body their country of origin more than mountains across water collecting clear cut patches Just a swim away somewhere in air an imaginary line cosplays electric fence That unseen jarring against susurrus of tides across rocks I listen to improv by wind and water and hear ocean’s jazz through new heat Kara the great white shark and all her teeth ping! off the coast of our home Our home hosting wolves pulling up crab traps We all adapt Weather invites each of us to learn new tricks People ask about living in a tiny town by the sea and I express gratitude to be on the Canadian side of the border I spare acquaintances my guilt and talk about how nice it is to live beside the ocean Nothing I say in conversation does justice to the ocean I know better than to try describing God but then maybe that’s what I’m doing now trying and failing If I tell you my soul has grown deep like ocean I mean I am not unique I am just a mother who wants what’s best for her children We bearers of life roam the earth looking for safety We call the laughter of babies Future When I gave birth the first time I learned what it means to become weapon I’m thinking about what Kwame Toure says must exist for nonviolence to work I’m wondering when the world will start listening to the 2010 Sade album Soldier of Love Our rage spells to revive each child killed in the mines and in Minab and in Gaza I am the kind of witch men throughout history have feared We save tears in jars and alchemize them into hexes We forget where we left our keys but nothing else Parents have the shortest and longest memories all at the same time We are always remembering another world is possible

Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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