We commune with the larger good, meadows
of coral in turquoise and pewter. Nothing better
than to comb the light. We park beneath the polyps.
Cozy exoskeletons have a particular hum
like the tuning forks of trees, leaves reaching
for the same light. We are power plants, the selvedge
in this waterlife yet also an athenaeum’s forgotten wing.
Lulled in dream, the way slow water moves
is others’ forgetting. Only when other life dives in
and marvels, do they find our arches and risings.
Bits of shell, bone, and algae divulge this ancient calendar.
Thousands of years. Cities of calcium carbonite
crackle against parrot fishes’ nibbles,
moons and stars of fish,
slow lumbering of sea turtles,
giant clam shells ruffles,
jellies’ lace caught in every blue.

But, Divine Oxygen, there is so much heat.
Coral expels clots of us, frantic.
Our citadels crumble in water-sky.
Crimson, orange, each little yellow cell lets go.
We become other cities, too desolate to drive our machine.