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78 Island W ith my knife I carve pegs and at low tide I drive them deep in the sand, anchoring the low wall I have woven from palm fronds. I watch the moon. When the tide has gone out again I gather the fish from my trap. Their night bodies are silver and green. Some I lay on racks over a smoky fire, some I wrap in clay and roast in the embers. On my island there is a spring and where the spring flows from the ground there is red clay. I cook in clay, I make masks I hang from trees so spirits will guard me. I whistle. This is where I was born. In clear water I dive for oysters, the knife between my teeth. I slide the blade into the muscle, watch the shell open. It is soft on my tongue, the sea taste of oyster. Whatever pearls I find, I give to the spirits. Some are black, some are white, the pearls that shine in their faces. I know the ways of sea cucumbers, how they inch their brown bodies along the rocky ledges of the bay. In the heat of the day I drink green coconut milk; turtles bury their eggs on my beach. My heart is big for my chest. I sing. I hide my fire when ships pass on the horizon. When I was beginning Grandmother Turtle rode me on her back. Dolphin swam beside me. They taught me to swim. They said, “The blood in your body, it is water. Water surrounds you. The sea in your body speaks with the tides.” I floated. I listened to the sea’s heart. At last Dolphin said, “Come and play,” and I swam out of the dark. I swam like a squid, pulsing in the waters. When the bird came I didn’t know. I rode in the sky on its creaking wings. I was given a name sharp on their tongues, the big ones. I was cunning and small. I took what I needed. I hid my strength. I was a baby, always hungry. I cried. My mother smiled. Her hands were angry. My father stood tall but he was afraid. I belonged to them. One day they left me at the water’s edge to play. I heard the dolphins calling. Water answered water. I swam. Like any fish at night I shone in the dark. But the dolphins were sad for me. I had grown legs and arms. They brought me to my island. At sunset they play for me. When I eat I thank the sea. 79 C y c l e 1 ...

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