In the Belly of the Albatross
A Hawaiian elder counseled us not to view the albatross or the islands as victims of plastic pollution. They have called this problem to them, she said, to deliver us a message. We are hit with this message every day. When can we say we’re receiving it?
--Victoria Sloan Jordan
Each of us is born into a cradle of loss
lamenting the briny absence,
pulse, echo, and mother-sway.
Each day we fill our bellies with lack:
umbilical ghost,
fallow breast,
silenced swaddling song
until we are anchored with nothings
as countless as a continent
of broken ocean bottles.
Our bodies swell with sorrow,
and the albatross heavies herself
on the bright remnants of our grief.
By Patricia Caspers
To see the photos that inspired this poem, click here.
