Permanent Change of Station

by

The room is bare, except for the girls
Kneeling surreptitiously by the window,
Keeping watch on harbor seals. The girls
Are formerly land-locked Army brats
Displaced by houses, yards and fences
Caught on rotating schedules like
Themselves. The harbor seals are rollicking,
As harbor seals are wont to do without a care
On danger-free, authentic coasts, capricious
With Orca pods to keep the daily quotas
Set before the girls had grace with curiosity.
The harbor seals are slick with sand
To coat their furry radiance, dispelling
Rapture mixed with sea salt as the girls
Behind their open window, present
Each other with a shared gratitude
In the secret form of fear called
Giggles. And from the ocean waves
Another seal emerges, presenting with
A ravaged fish — the glimmering scales
And punctured eye sagging from the floppy
Tedium, twitching now in the mouth
Outside their window — and wiggles.