Issue #54


Authors

qwuʔ (Lutshootseed for water)

On the shores of the Salish Sea

cold tides churn

exhaling long tendrils.

The ocean’s briny breath

Redolent with kelp

Snakes across pebbled shores

And slips into forests

Weaving between trunks

Caressing the rough bark of stately cedars.

Languorous mist drifts down

Meeting and mingling fog rising up,

Coalescing in tumescent drops that

Patter and splat on broad leafed maple

And grow to deluge dripping downpour

Swelling surging Skagit, Stillaguamish, Snake, Skykomish, 

Sauk, Snohomish, Simikameen, Sumas, Snoqualmie 

Rivers tumble roar

On their short sure runs from 

Mountain to shore.


And on the rocky islands that dot the sea

The water sheets away

Pooling stalling swirling

In every nook and hollow,

Ponds and lakes

Shiver glimmer ripple as they welcome back

Little droplets of themselves

Then overflow and cascade 

Winding through the loamy forest floor

Where funghi fatten

And fern fronds unfurl, 

Finally falling into the embrace of the salty sea.

Evaporation, condensation, precipitation.

Saturation.

We are all vessels in this cycle of hydration:

Respiration, perspiration, lacrimation.

Water passes through us, 

Back to the sea, up to the clouds, 

Cleansed of impurities,

To fall again

And again.

And again.

How many thousands of years has the Salish Sea

Swallowed the blood of salmon

Gutted on the shoal?

How many gallons of tears has the Salish Sea

Embraced, the mournful words in Salishan

Cried over broken hearts and broken treaties?

We splash through puddles 

Of millennia of memory.

Droplets clinging to our hair, 

Our skin, our eyelashes and GoreTex jackets.

We are heavy with it.

Green with it. 

Breathing in ocean

Breathing out clouds.

Ars Animalia

Belongings