Love at the End of the World
a free verse poem for riparian: the banks of our love
“Love at the end of the world must not be a diminished love, but one of endless expansion.” — Pam Houston
By the end of the day, I began to unravel the stance of distance
between you, me, and the doubled crested cormorant who lay sick
and dying in the low tide mudflats of Bothin Marsh. The coal
black feathered mound stopped us in our tracks. Refusing
to unfold herself for our benefit so we could easily name her,
she held so tight and still we thought her dead. No eyes or beak
visible, the u-curve of her neck arced inward like a midnight rainbow
placed where her head should be. Her wings hung loose and mottled
as if they’d gone heavy. It was only after we had named the sorrow
of being working artists trying to hold the world together with words
no one wants to pay for — how for so long we have shouldered ourselves
aside, tucked our dreams into the shade of what we are capable of, how
we are advancing now in small sentences — it was only after we swelled
up with free-range…
