—Newfoundland, over the Grand Banks
They start strong—
storm up the coast
full of piss and vinegar—
homewreckers,
coastline changers,
catastrophic syndrome
of a planet past
its tipping point.
We build back each time
the way it was before,
before we discover
we can be washed
or blown away,
before cool water warms—
arctic currents change.
They smash against land
with storm surge,
wipe away beaches,
flood shore-built
homes with silt.
Helpless, we do nothing
but watch them crush,
drown, destroy—
a crazy mix
of heated water,
cooler air,
and evaporation
drawn north
by the earth’s rotation.
On this shore we hear
the moan and roar
out over the Grand Banks
as storms squat
now impotent
in their final resting spot,
spin out and away,
spawning wind and rain
as they die.
But they always
come back, unwelcome
relatives on annual visits
disrupting everyday life
until they evaporate
into sunshine, calm skies,
and a somnolent sea.
—
Lynn DeTurk is a poet who lives in Central Coast California and Tors Cove, Newfoundland. Her work has appeared in the Cider Press Review, Mudfish, Poetry North Ireland, and the Lost Coast Review. A review was featured in Prairie Schooner. Her first book of poetry, An Ode to Newfoundland, was published in 2019 by Cave Moon Press. A current manuscript examines climate change in Newfoundland. She holds a Masters of Fine Arts from Pacific University.
