Jul/Aug 2020  •   Poetry  •   Special Feature

Mångata

by Joyce Brinkman


Mångata

We walk to the end of the pier,
hoping to see a stingray in the moonlight.
Their floating seems so effortless.
It's easy to look into the bay and believe
the sea offers support not found on land.

The sky sheens with a deep sapphire
against the irradiance of the moon
where curling waves stir the lunar,
reflecting light into a sugary shimmer.
We long to follow, but it's a road
only eyes can chase.