kelp | Thinking Through My Lens

Playing with form when writing poetry is always interesting. Today’s Verselove prompt introduced a poetic form called a cascade. (Check out the Verselove post for more details.)

I love the native giant kelp (macrocystis pyrifera) that grows in our coastal waters. It’s know for its fast growth–up to a foot a day–in ideal conditions. Unfortunately, conditions are not so ideal these days. As our water temperatures rise, kelp struggles. And like a forest on the land, a kelp forest supports an entire ecosystem. Some piles on the beach are normal, but too many piles ignites worry about this special place. I’ve been teaching my young students about this unique algae for years…and have fallen in love with its special qualities. Maybe I’ve illustrated some of them in this cascade of a poem.

It lands on the shore in a heap

Golden fronds etched with waves

Once an undersea forest filled with life

Bubbles bob and float catching rays

Enormous algae growing at top speed until…

It lands on the shore in a heap

Tiny brittle stars call holdfast home

With snails and urchins among

Golden fronds etched with waves

Delicate ecosystem depending

On cool Pacific waters

An undersea forest filled with life

We must protect this watery treasure trove

@kd0602

I was talking with my sister last weekend and she mentioned she had done a color walk with a friend at the beach. I’ve done color walks with my students around the school, often picking a color that I think they’ll have to look hard to find. I like the way that a focus on something: a color, a shape, a something…opens up new possibilities for what you might notice.

Of course, for me a color walk is also a photography walk…and lately a poetry walk as well. The tide has been low this week during my walking times, so the tide pools have been calling my name.

The color of giant kelp (macrocystis pyrifera) kept calling my name. An amber, goldish, kind of orangish color. And weirdly enough I felt like it was echoed in the landscaping I walked by (I did have quite a trek since we had summer over the weekend and parking also felt like summer–like looking for a needle in a haystack!).

With orangish on my mind, I pulled a small collection of photos from my walk, and then used them to inspire some small poetry. To be honest, I dreamed poems all night on Sunday, tossing and turning, writing and revising in my head. And then when I woke up it was all gone.

So, in the spirit of orangish, I’m going to try again. (Although I doubt I can conjure what seemed so urgent and perfect in those busy, persistent writing dreams.)

i.

I close my eyes and the sun pours in

painting the insides of my eyelids a warm

and soothing orangish

ii.

blinking

cool pools emerge

alive with shelled hermits

the unhomed of the crab world

investigating abandoned curves of mother of pearl

awash in orangish spiralling exterior

iii.

tide pool gardens bloom

floral anemones waving tentacles

decorating with bits of shell

iv.

on dry land I notice anemone’s cousin

a pin cushion of a blossom

exotic, styling points instead of petals

in all of the orangish and amber of the sea

v.

and a familiar bird

not the one with the bright yellow feet

but the one with a bright orangish mohawk

atop its sharp blue beak

it can only be named bird of