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Jill Bialosky's Broadside

$40

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36

"After the Storm"

The harsh sand stings. The salt air is bitter.

The sun makes everything sharp. I pick up

a seashell and it crumbles. My mother

is frail. She forgets. Everything is covered

with Post-its. An enriched beginning, a

new life, the lit espoused as if the past

washed away in a brutal wave and freed

her. Look, an aged sea turtle has left

its shell in the sand. The golden beach widens.

A generation of sea birds is dying.

We laid a grave of new sand to replace

what's lost, erected seawalls to forestall

erosion. The terrain is unsettled.

We can't save our beaches. Or anyone.

Gulls scavenge the plot: the ocean's embroiled.