Brother of the Sea
 
 
Lake Erie – blue water and sky become one. I sit in the sand not far
from the place along the channel where my father and I used to fish.
The beach is smaller now, cluttered with garbage cans and signs.
The driftwood too, scattered along the edge, entangled with leaves and
plastic bottles.

The gulls return again and again to the edge of the pier as they did
when we cast our lines. My father would tell the same story every time I
was bored. The Iroquois, a confederation of five nations – Seneca,
Cayuga, Onodaga, Oneida, Mohawk – defeat the Eries…


I remember our bobbers rocking back and forth in these waters –

the only legacy that bears their name.

 

receding tide

another feather

stranded

 

• Tish Davis lives and writes in Ohio and is a regular contributor to IS&T