Damn. I feel the weight, all that
water behind me. I meet strength
for strength. My thick rebar bones
anchor my manmade rock face,
harder than sandstone. I can
withstand the push, the slow
dissolution of my foundation, grain
by cemented grain. I’ve stood still
for nearly a century, but nothing
compared to the canyon walls.
Still, I hear the call of gulls and
ravens who soar past sheer bulk
fixed to bedrock, and I wonder
what would it feel like: to break
off, to spread concrete wings and
look down as ton after endless ton
of water scours the cliffs, drowning
everyone, irresponsible and free.
Pat Valdata is a poet and fiction writer with an MFA from Goddard College. Her poetry books include Where No Man Can Touch, which won the 2015 Donald Justice Poetry Prize, Inherent Vice, and the chapbook Looking for Bivalve. She lives in Crisfield, Maryland, and is an adjunct professor teaching writing online for the University of Maryland University College.
Delmarva Review publishes compelling new prose and poetry from authors within the region and beyond. In it’s eleventh year, the nonprofit literary journal is supported by individual contributions and a grant from the Talbot County Arts Council with funds from the Maryland State Arts Council. For information and book copies, visit: www.delmarvareview.com.