Poem submission by Harley Prechtel-Cortez
I breathed new life into some old language swimming around my head.
I deciphered it’s meanings and gave it lungs from the remains of muted gills.
Now I swallow pain night and day in the vain of things still left to say.
My aquatic grandfather spoke a Cherokee tongue
but that was before that teary eyed trail left him blind.
In this cuneiform-ed wetland of a great great grand fodder,
I was stuck with figuring out where my ancestors stood or swam.
I knew I had too many sharks in that water so I laid these metaphors to rest.
They now swim with fishes ever so eloquently.