At Grande Rivière

It’s been said
the world rests
on a turtle’s back.

At Grande Rivière,
sea opens under stillborn moon,
the burden of creation shifts
inside scarred casing.

Dark eyes leak nebulae
breath rasps with the turning
of tides half world away.

World turtle,
you must be weary of salt now.
The sea is heavy,
time is long.

I fear that you will turn again
from these loud voices and prying hands
and cast this land from your back,
set us adrift on a cosmic ocean
while you swim free at last
into the stars.

•••

 is a poet and artist from Trinidad. Her poetry has been featured in Bim: Arts for the 21st Century, The Caribbean Writer, Anthurium: A Caribbean Studies Journal, tongues of the ocean, Canopic Jar, Small Axe Literary Salon and Poui: Cave Hill Journal of Creative Writing. In 2009 she was awarded the Charlotte and Isidor Paiewonsky Poetry Prize from The Caribbean Writer. She was a participant in the 2010 Cropper Foundation Caribbean Writers’ Residential Workshop. She is currently the poetry editor at Anansesem: the Caribbean Children’s Literature Magazine.

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You’re currently reading “At Grande Rivière,” an entry on tongues of the ocean

Published:
Sunday, July 15th, 2012 at 12:02 am
2012 June Issue, bredren and sistren, written word