“Witness”: A Poem by Santi Tafarella

 

I’ve been told

that the shore’s scattered

jellyfish

 

are remnant tissue

 

from the placenta

of creation

 

that millions of years ago

out of its belly

 

the ocean heaved forth

the mountains and the valleys—

 

and this was witnessed

by the single eye

of the moon

 

who told the tale

to four North American

Indians

 

living in Bakersfield

last August.

 

I don’t know

about any of this

first hand

 

but I smell fish

and I see a film of bubbles

 

sleek like saliva

 

while polished pebbles

roll off the beach like tears.