Today I drove by the sea
along a shore thousands of miles
from you
from you
The smell of the salt air
transported me to
another clime
another place
another time
watching the mountains
soldiering on across the strait
the blackbirds pecking amongst the bouldered disorder
the remnants of trees transposed onto the beach
a final resting place
to be salted and dried
like the mounds of tiny fish
left by different fishermen on different shores
to be preserved in the daily heat
I force myself to focus on the present moment
the palm fronds and sand
waiting to become baked in another summer blaze
the large swaths of corn
waiting to become food for so many rutting ruminants
the smell of plastic being burnt into a cancerous ash
I know this land now
the seasons measured by crops instead of temperature
the horizon shifting from the low-lying field of rice
to the sky-high reach of corn towering over humanity
But I know this land could never be my home
this place of so little belonging
this place yoked into subservience by its colonial
ancestors
In the quiet moments
in between happenings
my skin tingles
with a colder breeze from another shore where
on the cusp of my vision
I see you
wind-swept and hair-wild
one eye on the sea
one eye on the rocks and shells
conglomerating to keep you afloat on that island
far from me
where you belong with your every fiber
my filaments forever foreign
