Totems
In fevered mornings, the salted sky
has halfway birthed her fiery sun.
All day the houses will guard the sea
with totems of windsocks and briny shells:
a foamy shoreline where bones of
dreams and shards of thoughts
are laid to rest, reclaiming the child
you were, spread-eagled, creature
to God, God to creature.
Copyright © Nola Perez | Year Posted 2013
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