Loggerhead Turtle
Thirty years since I’ve
touched this beach. In my
leather egg sac, I felt
the waves crash with only
pauses of quiet. I ripped
a hole in the egg, crawled
into the sand, began
to dig upward. My nest
mates clambered
over one another, all vied
for the surface. I blinked
at the moon painting
a path to the sea, cleared
my nose of sand, began
my trek to the waves. Once
past, the Gulf Stream
drifted me north, then east
towards Africa, each year
brings me closer to coastal
waters. Long lines hooked
many turtles, smiling dolphin
and tatted fishing nets
killed others. I am the only
survivor from my nest.
but the smell of the sand
guides me. I ride the waves
onto the beach,
tread past
the high tide line,
begin to dig.
rosette maleficarum
spring 2018
