Fort Ebey

I know this tunnel
with cracked concrete walls
where the ground
grows through.
Mosses and the thinnest weeds.
Puddles where the wall meets the floor.
A quiet
that shuts out the world,
what stirs ahead
what shifts behind.
Boys once waited
against these walls,
boys once hid
against these walls,
torn between the war above
and the pull, the pierce
of home.
Then after the war,
couples snuck in
for a kiss,
creatures darted in
from the rain,
brothers lured
little sisters
as far as the dark
and flicked off
the flashlight.
Now it is too dark,
and damp
to find solace.
It’s somehow
and less mysterious.
But that quiet
cuts out
the world.

~Megan M. Codera

Lost Boot

We packed the back
of the car
with buckets, metal rakes
and spades.
We bribed the kids
with milkshakes
from the roadside
burger stand.
The clouds
to make a fuss
but we ignored them,
along with the kids’ sighs,
knowing all would settled
when we reached
the shore –
the low tide
letting us go
so far
toward the sea.
We sat on spare buckets
to save our backs
and cheered
at each colony of clams
we found
below clusters of oyster shells.
We dug our limits
within minutes
And yet
none of us wanted
to let go
of the thrill
under that bright
and complicated sky.
Until the tide
snuck right up
through the sand,
took hold
of you and the boy.
When your feet came out
of the boots,
you stood strong
in soaked socks
to try to save
the boots.
But one of his boots
would not let go.
One of his boots
is still
filled with sea.

~ Megan M. Codera

Morning Light

Dark blue between
the shadows of the trees
and I still have time
to get out there
before the day comes
barreling in.
Wish I could drop this
digital dependency
like we do
when we are camping,
or visiting friends on the farm.
A fine poet said,
You live by the light you find.
And why not?
Wake with the light
and brew coffee
in the dim kitchen.
Go outside and do
whatever needs to be done.  
Discover the things
underneath the bushes,
take a different trail.
Get a little lost.
And then follow
the fading light home.
Start dinner and let it simmer
while you take your pole
down to the river
to watch the sun trying
something different
with the clouds.
On the way back up to the house,
as you put away the chickens
an owl flies up over the rooftop
and lands in the tallest ponderosa pine.

~ Megan M. Codera