Poetry Meme Day #3

Today I'm thinking about the people crossing the Mediterranean and the Bay of Bengal in battered, nothing boats. It reminds me of the fact that three of my grandparents spent weeks at sea before finally arriving on the shores of Singapore. My family is not unique; so many have done this, packed their lives into little leather and cloth bundles and waited and waited and hoped. "After Swim" can be found in my forthcoming collection, AND OTHER RIVERS (Math Paper Press). 

 

AFTER SWIM

We swam,

growing webbed feet and gills 

as we crossed the sea. 

All of us 

 

who docked to taste the chill up north

or took our first sea-legged steps

swaying with the coconut trees.

All of us from different boats 

 

now point and say, You. 

You are made from lesser stock. 

You with darker skin, poorer eyes.

That one tooth of mine

sharper than yours.