by Derek R. Smith
Nothing hits harder Than cold waves on rocky beaches Except maybe a poet who’s Inspired by this whole well-trod Metaphorical scene where Ocean kisses land. Then when the poet spots A single clear blueish chunk of Beach glass underfoot Amongst the gray rocks It all appears, the movie montage, How an old Coke bottle Fell off a Cuban pleasure cruise 1954 or so it was Held caffeine buzz, Green glass mirage, And stumbled round the ocean bottom Followed waves and camouflaged In schools of fish For decades til the unlikely Of unlikelies Landed here On this winter beach, Below my sandals So I might muse upon How sand-to-glass-to-sand, How something manufactured, A Coke bottle Labeled and glossed, Was lost, sunken, and tossed, Adventuring and submarining, Then broken somewhere along the way, Grinded and turned Times infinity, And finally served up to me, Shipwrecked on the feet of Colossus of Rhodes, Delivered right up to someone Who was missing Just this size and shape of Weathered blue-clear-green-smooth glass. And I will hold it close This talisman This ghost Of how we can escape The plan Become something Not through design But somehow Revolutioned into greatness. The both of us much better For the wear
by Michael Thompson
Derek R. Smith (he/him) is a public health professional, Anishinaabe two-spirit, uncle, sibling, friend, who finds it hard to not write poetry. His work is slated to publish in Great Lakes Review and Pa’lante in 2023. There is no space for distance here, in poetry, and isn’t that a beautiful thing?
Michael Thompson is a Chicago-based artist who works in a variety of mediums including collage, fake postage stamps, assemblage, sculpture, kite-making and memory jugs. His work can be viewed at http://www.michaelthompsonart.com.