Maya Katz
Broken Sand
This was earth
That was given
But then turned
To salt
The sweet
Was taken
Down
From trees
Where grace
Displayed
Now husk
Befalls
The fruit
Displaced
The ancient prayers
Around a fire
Sparked
No sign of smoke –
‘Til borrowed words
Were spoken
In the dark
Now the crest of gods
Portends a wider tide
The waves fall back
To unjust foam
The wire cracks
And splits the road
One path to the sea
That offers depth
And depth
And depth
The other to a circle
Tracing back
To home
It rises from the tides
And burns to black
A taken home
That was never
Given back