Sarah B. Cahalan
After the Stranding
Bleached-out bones collect in pockets
of the marsh, snagged like combs
in winter’s hillocks of spartina.
Disassembled. A single vertebra
holds, still, fragments of the code
for an infant dolphin, for its frolics.
Back to Issue XIII…
Sarah B. Cahalan writes about natural history, hope/grief/faith, the layers of places and how those correspond with our own layers as people moving through time and place. She has poems, current or forthcoming, in Hog River Press, Poetry is Currency, Trampoline, and others. Sarah is from Massachusetts and is currently based in Dayton, Ohio.
