Skyla, Kasatka, Tahlequah

Poem and photos by Faith Jayaram, junior at Spring Street International School

I traveled far to save you,
High on childish naïveté.
I suppose at the time
I believed myself a heroine;

Reality, though, is cruel,
And real life is death
By the dozens,
Starved, poisoned, struck.

I no longer believe in fate,
Or rather I do not believe
In my capacity
To save.

Yet I dream of your birth,
And I dream of your death.

I’m sorry, Skyla.
I’m sorry, Kasatka.
I’m sorry, Tahlequah.

I dreamed of you too,
But I
Was too late.

My stomach aches
When you swallow paint and
Cement, churning like
Chunks of sediment;

My lungs convulse
When you suffocate in
Chemical-rich space,
One part water, two chlorine.

You exhale, and I

Breathe again,
Breathe you in,

Feel you in my chest,
Feel the waves crash

Against my black and white
Skin.

I don’t know whose
Blood runs in my veins,
But our ancestors are
The same.

I promise I will tell the world
Our names.

Each year I make a generous gift to the Friends of the San Juans because it’s the one organization where I can actually follow the money from my checkbook to observable measurable outcomes. Will you join me in making a gift to support one of the most beautiful, precious, fragile monuments to nature on earth?

George Lawson

members, Lopez Island