Poem Over Whales’ Bones 
 
                                            —after Jericho Brown   
 
Here is a boat to ferry forgiveness        
across the crisscross wake of our acts.
 
     Over the crosshatch of our wakeful acts
     the small craft rocks its invisible gift
 
between rocky coasts, the craft’s small gift
for the guard who’s trashed a boy’s insulin shots,
 
     for the insular boy who’s shot up his class,
     and for the Syrian barrel bomb loader,
 
truck bomber barreling into a crowd,
the drone fiend, the whaler, pornographer,
 
     porn fiend. The boat drones over whales’ bones 
     and paled coral. Its lines are the ropes thrown
 
to thrown-in, roped-in, pale corralled souls.
Here is a boat to ferry forgiveness.