Taxonomies

At low tide the women
set out folding chairs on the sandbar
and read, their hips half in, half out of water.

*

Across the channel, a line of birds
on the distant rocks— The pelicans leave
first when our boat approaches.

*

All night, the lamps beneath
the hotel window turn curtain panels
into rippled furrows.

*

Streets named after fruit and flower
and tree. Salt marsh snails and periwinkles
on the floor of the bay.

*

Bricks in the wall where a vault used to be.
High ceilings studded with metal arches.
Rice grains in the salt shaker.

*

We are told to follow the gravel road
to the end of the harbor. To get to where
the water ends, we cross a rusted train track.

*

At dusk the sky looks windswept, nearly
empty. Only in the mind, for now,
somewhere, rain is falling.

 

In response to Via Negativa: Crow Mind.

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