The Moya View

Gills

When I was a kid I convinced myself 
I could breathe underwater.

I even dreamed I would join a lap 
of cod and swim all the way to Antarctica. 

I would never get tired of navigating
tides, forging rivers, crossing gulfs.
 
I was sure if I did surrender to 
the waters I could not be drowned

or become landlocked, or even 
beached on Gulf shoals.

The salinity would keep me afloat.
I wouldn’t choke on mother’s tears.  

These stories of memories that ought 
to be true carried me through hurricanes

even when the eye yielded to calamity
and the waters poured through the spaces

drifting me away from soil and roots-
these  gill-lungs swam  me through decades.

It’s how I float.
It’s where I keep my stories.

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JONATHAN MOYA

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Comments

3 responses to “Gills”

  1. Ana Daksina Avatar
    Ana Daksina

    I thought the same thing when I was very small, and I do remember that I finally figured out I’d been dreaming…

  2. JONATHAN MOYA Avatar
    JONATHAN MOYA

    lol. True fr all of us.

  3. clcouch123 Avatar
    clcouch123

    I used to dream of flying, meaning having wings. I knew where they would go (grow), just inside my shoulder blades, which is probably anatomically wrong–though who can say? The strong feelings and insights, if imaginative, about gills and swimming (living) underwater are expressed with hope and even usefulness within the poem. To take a dream and have it make difference in the waking world. That’s wonderful, inspiring.

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