If We Think the Tide Cruel
Giavanna Munafo
Begin with loss and see
how the world contradicts you,
how the horizon implies that beyond it
the water is not empty
but full of ships
all docking at another island.
—Lynn Emanuel
At this angle
Her blowing hair tears
The air. A catastrophe
However dim in comparison
To the echo of ever
The force of which erases
All grace from earth
Like happenstance meetings
Between ego and idol.
If I am jealous at all
I keep silent. Her tongue
Tastes of lemon, of
Lessons I never master
And never forget.
Outside the familiar rent air
Leaves a peculiar trace
Almost quaint, dusty.
Without rest, the sea
Persistent as a saint
Tumbles up and back
Down the rocks. Unspoken
Promises preserve like vinegar
Filtering sun from east to west.
Noon hits overhead, hot.
Open your eyes at once,
Sweetness is escaping us.
Moon pulls the other way
Outside the sinister sun.
Keep standing, keep still,
Internal clock ticking.
Nod once then drift away.
Gather they tell us, gather.
Onto our backs it burns.
Utter shade, utter rain.
Together we go up in flames,
Sever all connection,
Issue last words, last rites,
Dive into old sorrows.
Effort slips into memory,
Village lore settles into dust.
If we let go now we are lost.
Language drifts into groan.
Leverage now means blindness.
Alter nothing, whisper good-bye.
Gift now means water,
Essence kissing rock.
Gulls call our names here, at the end of the earth
where rock meets sea in a kiss thick with ruin.
Or is it? Is it instead a kiss wild with gladness, a home-
coming intent upon embrace, oblivious to immanent
loss? The sea knows, as do the rocks, how transient
the tide makes their caress, pulling the sea away
even as it draws her in. The rocks all memory, window
to her vaporous breath. There is no within, only endless
arrival and departure, inseparable at this farthest
promontory where clouds blanket the horizon
and gulls circle, calling you too, you too, you too.
if anything is absolute it is the sea
no trick merely repetition
tell me this if we lie still long enough
do we become helpless as dirt mindless as waves
and if there is no end to their crashing
is it like the laughter of the insane echoing
from shore to shore across the island
one gesture a single glance our only hope
your heart taps out an oceanic saga
no title though it begins and ends
what little heaven we have here salts the flesh
my open palm slides into yours
reckless and with intention
if you suggest otherwise we need only listen
to the easy thunder of the sea clambering to shore
Vice or saving grace, hard to tell.
Inside my head gulls cry, I smell fishes, docks.
Separate currents tear one way and the other,
Issue warnings only audible in the deep.
Tantrum or jubilation, it’s your call.
Tongue in cheek turns melancholy in all this wind.
Hearty folk trudge right on through
Exquisite in their indifference to utter chaos.
Meaning you and I better run for cover
Unless it’s each other we need for shelter,
Selfish tourists just out for some fun.
Enjoy that illusion. Enjoy the sun. Enjoy.
Understand only this: gulls cry hungry or not.
Mine, you said, all mine. Now, dive.
Trouble is summer passes.
Heavy weather roars ashore
Eager as the fever
Bereaved survivors curse.
Ample eaves groan under snow.
Regal egrets cower then flee.
Nonsense, you say, winter’s merely
Afterlife on earth.
Cabin fever makes us wary.
Lobster red August dusk an
Exception to the rule.
mostly it’s about missing
about the only one now irretrievable
the nasty truth is grief fades
you heave yourself onward
like these ferries braving the elements
what’s gone but the body
another gust off the sea slips along your shin
nails home how simply loss lives in the wind
motherly in its devotion to healing
its love of the air
why insist otherwise why track south
when north currents flow homeward
It barely matters, low tide
Or high, what’s absent
Returns, like a pet kept fed
Only feigns escape to find
The way home. Forgetting is rare
As the yes lovers whisper
Freely given. We are all
Like the infant, ready to take
What comes, holding fast to comfort
Recoiling from salt. But the sea
Brings it, token kiss.
internal churning akin to waves unfurling
song onto sand then pulling back from land’s end
lasting only seconds heartbeats
answer to what insistent question
noble but futile yearning for bliss
deliver us from the sea and her burning lips
inscribe their kiss onto distant shores
name your own tempest one with hers
nothing resting between you
Tangled sheets tell a story
night sweats, wet limbs, hurricane weather.
We might even find ourselves at the end
of the dock, tide rushing out again
sucking and pulling, our tongues ranting
a chorus about ailment and greed.
But you need only inquire further
to discover laughter, the release
beneath desire deemed illicit.
And this despite the natural world.
It’s a gamble leaving shore
saying yes to the spray off Pulpit Rock.
If we look back the cliffs may be empty.
If we do not we may never know why.
The sea accepts what’s offered
Wears debris dull the way an argument
Never settled exhausts passion until
The next full moon signals time to leave.
If we think the tide cruel we may unwind
In each other’s arms like the last lupine
Bowing as first frost moves inside.
Forget first sin, forget being right.
Come, stand at the very edge of the garden
Where risk yields rich purples. Roam
Wildly at the eleventh hour, but never
Stray from the broad shoulders
Whose memory would else eat at your sleep
Whose graceful sweep rivals sloops of lore
Whose faith in your hands eases
Backbone, eases day’s end
As orange light races across the swells
To soften only on touching land.
Giavanna Munafo’s poems have appeared in Slab, Talking Writing, Redheaded Stepchild, The New Virginia Review, Bloodroot Literary Magazine and The Nearest Poem Anthology (Ed. Sofia Starnes). She holds a BA and PhD from the University of Virginia and an MFA from the University of Iowa. In addition to teaching in women’s, gender and sexuality studies at Dartmouth College, Giavanna is a volunteer crisis counselor and advocate and does consulting work focused on diversity and equity. She lives in Norwich, Vermont, with her partner, Jim, their son, Max, and their border collies, Shy and Phe.
