Tahlequah by Serena Rodriguez

Tahlequah

the depth of a whale song
balances on the tip
of a mother’s despair
tour of grief swimming in
cold waters crashing
lifeless baby
black and white mask parting murky waters

for 17 days she pushes
slicing waves smuggling
thick air into wet lungs

for 17 days before mother
finally signals to ocean floor
that two is not enough

and with a tilt of her head
and a cry that reaches
beyond the oceans dark
graveyard, beyond the three
years of barren waters and
into my television screen—

I sip morning coffee
mug to mouth and

watch

waiting

blinking–

my daughter
arms spread wide
a sail soaring on
dry land, she dives in and out
swallowing air and her chest— it rises

and

falls

and

like the breath of a whale song

treading

silence.

Serena Rodriguez is writing her way through the undergraduate program at the Institute of American Indian Arts. Serena is a Poetry Editor for Santa Fe Literary Review. She has been published in Santa Fe Literary Review, miriamswell.wordpress.com, prometheusdreaming.com and SFCC Accolades. You can
find more of her work at serenarodriguez.com