These images from Santa Barbara’s Farmers’ Market are wonderful. Flowers are a visual manifestation of happiness.
Another stranger called the beloved sea
This first thing I noticed was his large face
and the way his eyes blinked with each word –
Give me your hand. Give me your hand. He pushed
until I gave him my hand and walked through
my door and into the world
It was silent and wet.
My dress pooled in the dew, and the horses swam
among us like dolphins.
Somehow, a sea rose up behind the hill
and my house became a lighthouse;
the goats became gulls.
A bone in snow illumined –
the moon gasped for air.
Years passed – my years –
and I grew smaller in this distance.
I remained without a family
to repair my slipped frame
or witness how slowly
my oak arms moved underwater.
In the blur,
I noticed other things
about him. He never ate. He did not sleep.
He had no body – but he must have had a body –
he must have … My questions
chilled me. My arms felt weak
until I became
another part of him.
A belly swelled
like the rolling wave.
I was also wave
space – I became
I should have known the bewildered son,
the way the tide comes
in … and
the sound of moving water
and breath. My breath.
© Aleah Sato
* first appeared in Ex Cathedra Literary Journal