Blueberry Whale
Carla gave me a notebook today Decomposition is the brand sea turtles swimming everywhere perfect day after the lockdown gift and I wonder what I will write in it worthy of the vulnerable beauties gracing the cover what I will write worthy of the soy ink lines the twice recycled pages what I will write about them saying nothing happened she also gave me a book of poems in this quiet book of night I say amen I bet there is some decomposing going on in Devin’s poems maybe something about what comes after hours of hiding in fear maybe after I read some I will feel quiet inside then write my own in my new notebook that maybe then the Loggerheads would carry out to sea an amen to keeping the students safe maybe offer these prayer poems down in gratitude to those same 44 whales we saw that one summer I like to imagine them still together like that a playful pod vacationing there off Stellwagen Bank who might be waiting for me in May dozens of Humpbacks the color of the blueberries in the salad my sister made me late night after the active shooter scare the color of blueberries baked into the muffins Carla brought me with the notebook and with Devin’s poems oh, and did I mention she gave me sea turtle earrings too shiny stirling head and flippers an onyx carapace she presented them to me dangling from a card inscribed with the promise that the stone stood for courage maybe the courage I’ll need later this morning – as I ate my breakfast of blueberry muffins I imagined riding the mother humpback into my post lockdown classroom safe on her blueberry back
Lynne says, my great-grandmother came here from Ireland as a young woman, and I was lucky enough to have her alive until I was 16… her stories in the brogue that somehow only got stronger the longer she lived are one of my treasured childhood memories. Whether graveside or in a parade march, the steps of a wedding procession or at an Irish festival, the pipes (along with the snare drum and tin whistle) stir my deepest emotions, whether joy, pain, longing, or delight.
In our dream band, on Irish bagpipes:
Lynne McEniry (she/her) published her first collection, some other wet landscape, with Get Fresh Books. Her poems have been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and were recognized three times for the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Award, most recently in 2023. They have been widely published in journals and anthologies. Lynne leads poetry workshops and edits manuscripts and journal work for various non-profits. Born in Yonkers, New York, she lives in Morristown, New Jersey where she teaches at Saint Elizabeth University.
Ran Off With the Star Bassoon 