trying to find somewhere
the fragments of myself can coalesce
into an admirable reality
Everything is fragile
Only the water exists
The stone insists its welcome, tries
to offer wisdoms in the guise of contour \ texture \ slant
Look what remains it says your kind are easily erased
embrace the years you’re given, do not waste your time on purpose
I hear the earth’s chuckle in the waves’ pull from the shell-shattered shore
Being in this place that is not mine I almost
glimpse the lives my home denies
I want to dig my heels into the sand, suffer
the ache of loss, last a few more days
in this borrowed reality,
skirt the cutting edge of family
mine is not a place of clarity
it is made of muddled emotions, confusions and blood
it is where my children live \ me with them \ them
with me \ their mother’s life chiselled into their bones
a legacy unasked for, ignorantly gifted
One more walk in a wind that is happy to refuse me
one more time-stop putter on newly naked sand
one more meal in the company of women who are brave
enough to live and will not quiet
one more breath, perhaps another, perhaps one more
by Giovanna MacKenna