Share1 https://www.terrain.org/mp3/2018/dec/Young-GreatWhiteSharks.mp3 Great White Sharks Must Move Forward to Breathe She’s to the point where every highway garbage bag or blown-out tire is an animal to mourn. The scenes are a trick of the eye, a catch and jump of her chest landing heavy. The line of sight moves back and forth between true and history. ~ 500 remain off the South African coast, 3,500 total. Making the great white more endangered than the tiger. She’s never seen one gliding behind glass, because no aquarium can keep one. No longer able to reach 15 mph without space and something to chase, the creature passes again and again away. Sometimes reaching 20 feet of despair and relief. She is landlocked and can do nothing for the shark. Nothing for the flattened animals on the roads around her house—too many to be mistaken, mistake, an accident. ~ All of those facts merely best guesses from the best available angle at a certain moment. The fiction of grief doesn’t settle her stomach, knowing an actual dead body lies somewhere, in final display of perfect timing. ~ What if it’s the teenage boy next door who will grow up and regret it? What if it’s not or he won’t? Sometimes the act of watering the potted plants seems impossible, excess shed to concrete. What if the concentration should be on the little dog who stops at every puddle for a drink? Natalie Young is a founding editor for Sugar House Review. By day, she works as an art director for an agency based out of Salt Lake City. Previous publications include The Los Angeles Times, Rattle, Dark Mountain, South Dakota Review, Green Mountain Review, The Midwest Quarterly, and others. Find her at NatalieYoungArts.com. Read one poem by Natalie Young also appearing in Terrain.org. Header photo by Fiona Ayerst, courtesy Shutterstock.