The texture of salt and mud and gravel
of mud mixed with gravel
of mud and gravel mixed with frost
of frost mixed with oil
of oil mixed with seawater
of feathers mixed with oil
of birds mixed with seawater mixed with oil
of people’s gloved hands mixed with oil on seabirds’ feathers.
The delicacy of gills
of gills clagged with oil
of oily beaks and slender oil-pink throats
The thin shredded texture of despair
the texture of truth glistening
as the oil itself glistens.
© Helen McKinlay
I wrote this poem a few months after a deep sea oil drilling rig caught fire in the Gulf of Mexico. Images abounded at the time. And then we had our own oil spill for quite different reasons, when the Rena stranded on Astrolabe Reef. In preparation for posting the above I returned to the net. I found this rather artistic and beautifully done short video. It spoke to me more than anything I have yet seen on the topic.
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