She drowned & kept
drowning, surrounded by water
like her country
submerged until neither
ghost nor body rose; she became
a foaming of wave,
a froth of tide,
an erased border—
coming in for those who made
war & marked
graves like hers, who made
missiles & marked
targets like her, who made
ships & murdered friends of hers,
corporate bureaucrats stuffed
with sea stolen profits
in the neon city.
She streamed like a signal
through the network of yeoks—
samusil pipes froze & burst;
corrupt men slipped on winking ice;
coastal playhomes went under same
as her. The wicked turned fretful
eyes like dirty coals to sinks & gutters.
Water maidens coming for the Earth, they said.
Gwisin coming back to claim the sea.
From elderly ajummas in basement hovels
she took the water
mildewing cherished photos, moldering rice.
To canvassers signing up folks
to save the planet, she coalesced
another sip in reusable bottles.
A lost traveler at a mountain stream
swore he saw her, in a school uniform,
pointing the way back home, she,
mercy & wrath in tidal force,
surging—
This powerful poem is one I return to over and over and over again. It is brilliant work. I love the ending: “…she, / mercy & wrath in tidal force, / surging – ” WOW!!!! Maria Picone’s “Ocean Vengeance” speaks with the haunting voice of our mother earth, wounded and ready to rise.