The Captain's Daughter

 
O, Father, I have found you  
at last—  
the controversy of my birth  
drove wedges  
all around the families,  
drove miles  
between us as whitecaps  
carried your ship to foreign places.  
 
I did not know that you  
were looking for me  
when I watched horizons  
and knew not, where you were.  
 
The lands are mere plateaus  
and that which fills the spaces between  
is nothing more  
than a liquid looking-glass in bowls,
that carried your boats  
to and fro  
their shadows visible  
from under the airless surface.  
 
O, Captain, my Father  
will you tell me tales  
of your high adventures  
of smugglers and pirates  
you chased  
to uphold maritime law?  
 
I am too old  
for bedtime stories  
but I want to hear them anyway—  
 
perhaps we can meet  
where kelp and shells  
wash onto sands  
amid tidal flows, eddy pools,  
and I won’t have to wonder  
about the missing half of myself  
anymore.