cooler waters
Georgetown, KY
2019, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word
the grandfather walks the same way each day,
taking each boy’s hand and leading them west
despite protest after protest, time after time,
there’s nothing there, grandpa, anyways.
the shoreline is painted in plastic
the little ones trip over the waste
yet the seagulls screech in envy
of the routine the humans hold day to day
fishing wire thinner than expectation
each boy grows thankful for their canteens
even in the heat of the late afternoon
their grandfather had prepared for everything.
forethought and familiarity are luxuries of love.
well-worn routes
and fresh water.
the grandfather has learned to treasure what lay ahead,
yet cannot forget what has passed.
for what of the fish beneath the surface,
who knew nothing of such preservation?
only steaming, sweeping currents,
only new nesting ground,
only abandoning their homes.
and what a shame to never see the rockfish,
orange-backed,
who once played where the boys roamed
now, there is but stones and hot water
and the memories only the grandfather knows.
there is so much more lost than a wasted fishing trip,
so much sadder than an untouched wire,
as the boys race past slipping sand on the coast
the grandfather wonders,
who’s next?
Reflection
Reflection
Every time I have visited the ocean, I have longed to see more than the shallow ends. I used to dream of the fish that would swim next to my feet, and my parents would read to me about different species. Each sea creature seemed foreign, and I was determined to learn as much as I could about them. Upon hearing this prompt, I knew exactly what to write. I wanted to imagine a near future where fish changed migration patterns and fishing industries suffered because of the effects of global warming. In this poem, the grandfather is a symbol of the generation of 2018/2019. We have the choice to idly watch as our planet is damaged beyond repair, or we can speak up and take legislative action to prevent these life-changing things from happening. The boys represent future generations. If we ruin this planet, they will never know its beauty. I used this metaphor to demonstrate the dramatic loss it would be if we were the last to see certain aspects of nature. The grandfather makes efforts to care for his grandkids, as if helping them now can reverse the catastrophic damage done to the environment. By packing an extra canteen, the grandfather shows care for future generations a little too late. The mentioning of the luxury of familiarity is to contrast how the grandfather is able to have a routine when certain species of fish are having to create entirely new migration patterns due to warming waters. Yet the most influential thing about this poem is the last line: who’s next? This problem is not just for the fish, nor is it limited to the sea. What happens in the ocean can happen to us. When we are the ones suffering greatly, it’ll be too late.