RockPaperPoem

 

Harbor Seal

by Mary Beth Hines

 

Beached. Flaps a mottled
flipper, hisses, lifts
its head and glares
across the fogged-in
flats at me.

And I discern my departed
father’s face in his,
blinking up from this same
stretch of shore
after a long-ago stumble,

tumble, then his shaky
old man hand wavering up
for my hand. I can almost
feel him mustering
his raspy voice

to defend against
my stricken gaze,
to contend
this could have happened
to anyone.


As anyone would, I hustle
once again toward the percussive
lull, dawn’s low tide,
past sea-wrack, driftwood,
the Buddha rock—

off to the hobbled
specter’s rescue,
don’t stop until he yelps
maa maa, flashes fangs,
and my heel skids

on a sweep
of abandoned stones,
shells, and I’m down
for a glimpse
into the eye-to-eye abyss.


Mary Beth Hines is the author of Winter at a Summer House (Kelsay Books, 2021). Her poems appear widely in literary magazines including, most recently, Solstice, Tar River Poetry, and Whitefish Review. She was a finalist in Fool for Poetry’s 2023 International Chapbook Competition, and Comstock Review’s Jessie Bryce Niles 2023 Chapbook Contest. Connect with her at https://www.marybethhines.com.


 

 

RockPaperPoem