What We Have Wrought
(for Bishop Tutu)
Seas began to rise
ominous as the melting glaciers.
Islanders accustomed to tranquil millennia
began to seriously consider boats,
sought old patterns, tools, any wood or wattle left
from careless consumption,
reeds and matting considered for woven sides,
speed a new edict for a languid people.
Families set sail hugging remembered coastlines
until storms began under new constellations,
huge and hostile moon sending a terror of tides.
Angels of The Last Seal took pity,
steered with strong wind-wings all the little ships
to a newly risen continent
where the bones of the last Atlanteans
Katherine L. Gordon
June First, 2014.