Page 153 - Dark Matter Issue5 Part II
P. 153
JAIME R. WOOD
Yaquina at Low Tide
Sea lions peek their heads up
like periscopes to stare
at the bipedals corrupting
the rocky shore. Each time
the waves sweep the blue black
pebbles and roll back into themselves
the stones applaud the effort
it must take to be the tide.
Atop the fisted cliff jutting from the shallows
perch a thousand Murres and beyond them
a thousand more who will never know
the prison of a cage or a too-small wage
or the death that awaits them
beyond their knowing.
They understand the sea, the cycles of the sun,
the threat of eagles stealing their young,
the cacophony of seagulls
who catch their unhatched progeny
