She won’t have children, she says, as we watch
another’s child taunt the surf, all bright
shrieks at the waves’ skirmishes. What
of the plastic vortex, she asks, or the smudge
of stars gone from the night? And the water table
retreating along with the glaciers, whole cities
left bone dry? I get her acerbity.
My generation messed up, unable
to look beyond its mown lawns, its love
of more. I watch the boy, light-haloed,
conch in hand a trumpet. He is loud,
oblivious to being among the last to move
on two feet. I hope she’ll change her mind,
but what convincing argument can I find?
Kevin Morris blends together wonder and joy; nature and humanity to produce photographs which will ignite your wanderlust for Southern California beaches and nostalgic childhood memories. When he is not capturing moments on his camera, he is typically found hiking, or near the ocean with his wife and son.
Devon Balwit’s most recent collection is titled A Brief Way to Identify a Body (Ursus Americanus Press). Her individual poems can be found in Relief: A Journal of Art and Faith, The Cincinnati Review, Tampa Review, Apt (long-form issue), Free State Review, Timberline Review, Rattle, and more. Her books, book reviews, and online work can be found at: