Howmuchness

For as long as I can remember we have lived here, my parents and us.
They moved here before we were born, made their home on a platform they built
at the highest point of the island, right in the middle, as far away as possible
from the water.

So that’s how we grew up, looking out over the land and beyond it to the ocean
glittering in all its unquantifiable immeasurable incomprehensible howmuchness
and the waves always licking and nibbling at the shoreline, crunching our island
into sand.

Life here was pretty pleasant but a bit coconutty if you don’t eat fish, and I don’t,
can’t stand the sight, smell or taste of them. I’m pretty sure my sister felt the same
but even so she built herself a raft in secret then last year just upped and left,
and put out to sea.

My parents understood that she needed rescuing and so they struck out after her
and it has been a long time now. Above me the patient palms nod, turn dark again
and light as the stars wink off and on in their shimmering canopy. I wait, I am waiting
for them to come back.

Howmuchness

I am starting to think they might never return. The sea and its creatures, the slimy ones
that flicker and bite, they know we can’t escape their pull, will eventually inevitably
succumb to the gigantic wonder of what else is out there. I feel so small, so fragile.
Who will take care of me now?