(NOT belated!)
ANCHOR
I.
Sailors are buried at sea
and it is said
their faces appear in the waves
for days
following the ship
that bore them
from their homes
II.
A day of chilled spring rain
and the worms creep
like question marks
from their earthy homes
but they lose their way,
find themselves underfoot
or out to dry
what keeps them coming?
why is home not enough?
III.
When he was born, I said
look at his chin
a perfect replica of his father’s
they were the only words I could find
after two days of waves crashing
over me, after a red rope seam
was stitched into my belly
that kept me pressed into my bed.
IV.
Evening night glints
on a glass frame
that face is gone
though the glass frame
cradles the photo
holds it tight to itself
as if closed eyes
could return what was lost
V.
The faces in the waves
fade eventually
and the ship is free
to choose its own direction.
Issa M. Lewis 