Poem by Lucilena Williams


We don’t know what is within us: the caches of pearls,
the bivalves with their byssal threads, the cup corals.
After dinner we retire to the den and play the old home movies.
There you are fishing pole tipped over a shoulder,
fishing pole in the water, fish on the pole. The blue cliffs,
the Black Oystercatchers on the shore, the grey whales.
There you are in your red lifejacket in the red canoe.
The canoe goes out. The canoe comes in.

Lucilena Williams writes and teaches at the University of Illinois, where she is an MFA Candidate in Poetry.

Featured Image photograph by E.B. Bartels, www.ebbartels.com.

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