Poem: Castaway

Rain clouds over Seattle skyline, photo by Christian Bobailla

 

Castaway

by Shannon Laws

 I am a yolk inside an egg
first light backlit behind mother’s skin
Morning glows gently
through her Texas accent

It’s about to rain in Seattle
Clouds dark-gray-pregnant with drops
hover over Yesler Way

Latin guitars labor heel slaps
against slats laid on the café floor,
serenade woodblock prints
balanced by wires against the red wall

Joker behind me gets up
throws something in the basket
It’s Wednesday afternoon
smashed into a ball
wasted

 


I learned I was born on a Wednesday. Such a quiet day to be abandoned, laid like an egg in a forest-floor nest, placed there for fate to guard but the world to devour.

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Published by Shannon Laws

Shannon Laws is an award-winning poet, performer, and advocate for the arts. She has been recognized with two Mayor’s Arts Awards and the Dr. Asha Bhargava Memorial Award — Community Champion. Her work has been featured in numerous journals and anthologies, and she has captivated audiences at esteemed literary events, including the Jack McCarthy Evergreen Invitational Slam, SpeakEasy, Poetry Night, Kitchen Sessions, and the West Coast Tagore Festival. Beyond her writing and performances, Shannon actively fosters literary and artistic communities. Since 2022, she has curated Corridor, a monthly “found-art” zine project that showcases the work of more than 50 contributing poets and artists. She is also the founder and host of Poetry Club, an engaging discussion group established in 2015.

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