Sarah Louise Garrido

salt air blowing ~ ~ ~ in:

sea-grass smell     pervading sense

of rain     under moon-slice     rain

under empty skies

the coldness sinking in

narrow escape, the worst parts of us

follow     into each night

a people, hollow // a people, hateful

hopeful in     spite

every bad omen

even the gulls can’t predict:

storm’s descent

abatement

hushing of winds

what breaks first     in

this beautiful world     what shocks

by not breaking

and the sweetness of surviving it