BARNACLE
Lean in close to a wall of barnacles—
you’ll hear a chorus of voices
murmuring: careful where you lay your
incendiary hands. You won’t live
without damaging but you might learn
to break branches into kindling. Hush:
the ocean will swallow your spit but it
won’t give back forgiveness. Find
something other than salt to offer
the sea. What you’re looking for isn’t
hidden, just unseen.
This poem originally appeared in SOFTBLOW. Cover photograph by Darla Mottram.