Two Poems by Christine Darragh

Ro-Sham-Bo

On again, then off—phosphorusemits a curious glow, barnaclesopen, shut. Anemones bloomwith the rise and fall of the sea—our own armistice-linkedhearts tamed in this violet hour.Briefly—a still sea, liminal space,tentative peace—salt and sandobserve an intertidal ceasefire—evening at the water’s edge.Sunset magic holds until darkness,tides’ turn. I am again ocean—vast, frigid, deep. You—treacherouscoast. I break against your impassivebody. Daily we play this zero-sumgame: shifting influence vyingfor mastery over dishes, domesticaffairs, marriage beds—easy blame.Indebted to moonrise—I am drivenagainst willful margins—shatterto salt and foam. But, I will return,erode you slowly—shoreline unraveled—consumed by unrelenting swells.

Unseasonable

For a day, mid-January exhaledthe filmy degrees of March, a hazydiscontent shrouding still-frozenground, skeletal heartwood. Wewatched as though faultless—which of us hot air, which rimmedearth? Both necessary to stir thisopaque gloom—antipodal partnersneeding degrees of faithto reconcile. We clasp hands,step blindly into the fog. Photo by Scott Webb on Unsplash