–a new setting for an old story
Overnight the storm had washed up
thousands of starfish onto the beach,
turned orange by the early sunrise.
Stepping between the stars I bent down
to throw one back into the water.
Then another star splashed in, and another.
I threw them in by the dozen,
stars that were bent or lying upside down,
ones on dry sand or even missing an arm.
A jogger stopped my arm and asked,
“Why are you doing this? There are
thousands of starfish out here, and
they’ll all be baked dead in a few hours.”
“This is true,” I said, “It is always this way
after a storm.” I pulled away from his grasp
to throw another star back into the sea.