Nico Zametto - Junior
I found you by the Arctic coast,
the sole survivor of a voyage north.
Your ship’s hull was splintered,
edges twisted, interlocking with the ice,
a frozen jigsaw of rime and hull.
You lay inside, lips etched with frost,
pressed against the jagged rime,
like a soul bending to the contours of others,
losing itself in order to survive.
Then, I brought you to my cabin,
where the fragrance of pine resin
and the crackling echo of charcoal
animated my quiet, Arctic alcove:
shaved wood gliding to the ground,
my knife tracing the misfigured grain,
and you, by the hearth—
solving it,
solving me.
Your quivering hands,
your trembling lips,
a tiny warmth within a blanket,
as tears gather into crystals,
then vanish into mist.
I sheathe the knife; you flinch as I rise
to stoke the dying fire.
You say: “What is there in such a life?”
I answer by parting the curtains.
The Aurora Borealis
sewing sapphire light,
like Daedalus across the firmament—
…You smile, at last, your tremors cease,
the piece of life you lost finds peace.
675 Sir Francis Drake Boulevard, Kentfield CA 94904 Phone: 415-464-3800 | Email: admissions@marincatholic.org
