In our port window:
old fishermen
sloped toward
hooks, years
baiting & coiling
line knotted
in their palms;
Krakatoa moon
faces tinged
blue by ash;
my love
unwinding
the rope; our boat
released into water
white with clouds;
his eyes glacial,
receding; myself
as a woman
lying bare
breasted & mute;
another wooden
figurehead
trying to shame
an unknown sea.
—
Rachel Morgenstern-Clarren is a poet and translator based out of Montreal. Her work has been honored with an Academy of American Poets Prize, a Hopwood Award, and a Fulbright Fellowship to Brazil, recently appearing/forthcoming in Ploughshares, Ninth Letter, and MANOA. She holds an MFA in poetry and literary translation from Columbia University, and is the Consulate Editor for Joyland Magazine.