Today we saw pictures of tunas
caught in nets – mouths gaping,
silver bodies thrashing. Somewhere
beneath that are fish adapted to live
in the cold, dark abyss – sometimes
I wish I could join them. Years ago
I wrote a story about a woman
who drowned herself by diving –
the great pressure, collapse of vital systems
in the deep. That image never left.
I used to think we would meet each other
halfway, but now I see we were always
just casting line in different sections
of the stream, missing the fish
in between us. I miss you
but I can’t say that yet. It’ll be years
before I consider you a friend.
Between cities I touch the bare earth
with my hands as much as possible.
All day I helped people find their voices
amid the constant din –
there are a lot of people in the world
and a place for all of them, I think –
probably even me.