Near the Calvert Cliffs Nuclear Plant
A shark’s tooth
dries in my hand,
on this day that marks
the twelfth year
since I’ve last spoken
to my only sister.
The bay smells like
a murky soup,
and the sky wears
a thick grey shroud
from the power plant.
Tell me, who doesn’t love
when siblings feud?
If only I could let go
of this razor-sharp thing,
I feel lancing the boil
filled with the blood
and the pus of pride.
- © Mike Daniels 2023
Mike Daniels grew up along the banks of the Chesapeake Bay, and he studied poetry with Lucille Clifton at St. Mary's College. His poems have appeared in numerous journals.
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