Sharks launch like fast-floating eggs off the cliff bank. Face of dark gardens where sea sponge, urchin, and cucumber lurk along walls. Deep in an eddy of ever-night, octopus undulates and waits. She wraps her arms in tentacled embrace to glut on the valiant shark.
Ulve-weeds drift in surface shallows, their stipe and lamina wrought like eel and ray. Sun-soaking, greening, they trail from buoyant berry-sacs that sway in the burgeoning tide.
Siphons, where the edges fuse, milk tiny rivulets of weave-water in and out of their calcite shells. Razors dig and scallops swim, but like mussels they marry the mantle and shell coupled in dorsal desire.
Jill McCabe Johnson is the recipient of the Paula Jones Gardiner Poetry Award, and four Pushcart nominations for her work in poetry, fiction, and nonfiction. She earned her MFA at Pacific Lutheran University, and is pursuing a PhD in English at the University of Nebraska. Her writing has been published in numerous journals, including The Los Angeles Review, Third Wednesday, and Harpur Palate.