17 crosses on the river & he cuts the engine to show us the first one
proud fisherman-turned-tour guide
who earlier this morning hoisted a rope,
slick & wet, from the water
one end tied to the platform
the other to a net
swollen with oysters.
The moon was still out & the boat tilted as everyone leaned over its side,
port. please, teach me, I hear myself say
“Obrigada.”
Silvio’s words return to me like waves,
lapping against the edges of my third eye.
Boat.
“Say it as if there is no obligation.”
“Schto mutu grata,”
Silvio, I fall in love with men like you.
But this morning, under this moon on this water,
(which admittedly is all water & all moons)
I count cruceiros, Rio Ulla, no time for love.
I let the river enter me } open mouth rolling language.
Vien del mar de Arousa,
nosotros navigamos
para Pontesecures.
No tomorrow.
Only forward momentum:
Translatio:
a body transported over sea
in a stone boat, Palestine to Pedron
& back again to
Obrigada.
Here, a body becomes reliquary.
Houses fruit like gold
saltwater on its lips.
Christina Butcher is a Chicana poet, publisher and veteran from New Mexico. Christina also works with Write253, serving as a teaching artist and event coordinator for the annual teen poetry slam, Louder Than A Bomb – Tacoma. She’s passionate about language and culture, storytelling, and community involvement.
