Loggerheads
Her wide-stance waddle
her forward head with tiny
eyes—who would not
want to meet her
on the beach? Flippers
guided by the tides
and an ancient algorithm,
she mates in surf, drags
her heavy carapace
ashore to bury new
generations begun
60 million years since—
only to be undone
by condos and chemicals
brought by a recent species—
invasive, careless and deadly—
a blip in the grand scuffle—
but for now, carretta carretta
let’s swim in a watery
slipstream, my breaststroke
matching yours in your
warm lightgreen world
where we pretend our
children’s children will not
miss this.
*
Carol Sadtler is a poet, writer and editor whose recent poems and reviews appear in Writers Resist, The Inflectionist, Sky Island Journal, The Humanist, RHINO Poetry, Bangalore Review, Pacific Review, and other publications. She lives in Chicago with her family.
