Poetry by Andrew Shattuck McBride
Until we die our lives are on the mend.
Richard hugo
At the shoreline near the coffee shop,
someone has balanced shards of stone
tip to tip in ragged stacks, creating
a forest of stone above the water.
Under a bench, a pink pacifier, forgotten.
Further down the paved trail, a woman
gathers another woman who is weeping
into a fierce loving hug, murmurs comfort.
A curtain of rain cloud passes overhead,
and steady rain soaks us as I walk by.
Cherry trees are in bloom. Sodden
pink petals redeem pavement and lawn.
There are fewer discarded masks.
The rain, gentle, comforts like a hug.
I don’t hurry. I’m on my way home,
toward something resembling hope.
Andrew Shattuck McBride grew up in Volcano, Hawaiʻi, six miles from the summit of Kīlauea volcano. Based in Washington State, he is co-editor of For Love of Orcas (Wandering Aengus, 2019). His work appears in literary journals including Rattle, Clockhouse, and Crab Creek Review.
