We became artists at the same time. We were tiny, timid critters hurtling towards the shore of representation I thought she might not make it – she was very small — and I feared the birds, falcons, eagles would grab her,. But she ducked, retracted her head and limbs (reptiles know how to hide). I ran in adult name only towards the water rebirth. Made it. We separated, reunited, separated again, swam in different directions. In our small round minds: the same stretch of beach where the hatchlings struggle to outlive the slow run to the wetness. She made a box, I made a poem about turtles. We saw about them on TV.
We held each other trembling in the goo that’s called survival.
(Copyright, Stephanie Barbe Hammer, 10/14/2012)
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Published by Stephanie Barbé Hammer
Stephanie Barbé Hammer is a prose writer, magical realist, and a committed, intermittent poet. A 5-time nominee for the Pushcart Prize she has published work in Hayden's Ferry, Pearl, CRATE, Rhapsoidia, NYCBigCityLit, the East Jasmine Review, Apeiron, Inlandia, Literary Alchemy and the Bellevue Literary Review among other places. Her fabulist novel _The Puppet Turners of Narrow Interior_ appeared in March 2015 with Urban Farmhouse Press. Her poetry collection _How Formal?_ was published in 2014 with Spout Hill Press and her prose poem collection _SEX WITH BUILDINGS_ was published in May 2012 by Dancing Girl Press. Stephanie is addicted to teaching; she taught composition for the first time ever at Edmonds Community College. She is currently managing editor for SHARK REEF literary magazine and trying to make something happen with her second novel manuscript.
View all posts by Stephanie Barbé Hammer
(Copyright, Stephanie Barbe Hammer, 10/14/2012)
