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Ritual
April 28, 2019
When the water came we spoke in hushed tones
As if our words would stick upon the hurried air
And out of sentences we built a monument to bear
Our memories and our bones
As if these petty gifts would stay uninterned, and open to the world
When the water came we cried
As if our tears would rise like mercury above the swell
And all throughout the day we wished each other well
With sacraments and small talk
As if we were expecting an answer
© Tori W., Victoria, BC, Canada
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I am a high school senior from Arlington Massachusetts and I have always loved reading and writing poetry.