A Literary Magazine in Support of the Jewish Community
Alpha and Omega
The ocean reminds us of the border between this life
and the expected next, which might be nothing,
but could be a coral reef full of multicolored
angels and blue-banded shrimp, a slow whale
drifting overhead, casting shade over all this
imagined brightness, like a misplaced continent
or God in the Tanakh, creating everything
perpetually, brooding over the waters.
That might balance out the human effort
to undo it all, plastic waste and leaky
oil tankers, poison leaching from the fields.
Years ago, I loved to walk by the black rocks,
watching tiny hermit crabs and pink anemones
rush headlong into each incoming wave
to harvest whatever riches it might bring.
Now they’re gone. The sand left strangely bare.
No vacant shells or fiddler crabs, scuttling
in the surf, one arm raised over their bodies
like a beach umbrella. The birds must make
a meal of bits that tourists toss in trash cans,
filled to overflowing. A single flip-flop
lies beside the bin, stranded invertebrate,
tossed by fitful waves, falling and rising
with their ancient plaintive music.
Robbi Nester
Robbi Nester, a retired college educator, is the author of four books of poetry and editor of three anthologies. Her most recent book of poetry is Narrow Bridge (Main Street Rag, 2019). She hosts two monthly readings on Zoom. Her poetry and reviews have appeared widely, most recently and forthcoming in One Art, MacQueen's Quinterly, Verse-Virtual, Whale Road Review, Autumn Sky and more. You can learn more about her at https://www.robbinester.net.
