OCEANIC

sandflies cloud on skirts

of black sand

there are no man-o-war

in the water

where my daughter is

windows section off the sky

doves press against the pane

where is my daughter

the glass of water waits

as I try to rest

glimmers irritate the corner

of my eye

plovers swooping in and out

of curtained light call me mother

I remember the heavy churn

of ocean

what figure

in this metal room

I stood up and sat

back down

my food this morning

was cold

each sunday my daughter

sings to me

on the phone while

driving to work

she is a beautiful

beautiful shell

tumbling into

her big girl life

I hope she remembers

to untangle her hair

I taught her so many

impractical things

I love

I section off the sand

draw a circle in the dark

to bring her

---

Rachel Tanaka was born and raised in Honolulu, Hawaii. She's currently writing in Massachusetts where she is pursuing an MFA at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. They have work published in Vagabond City Lit and Poetry Northwest.