at the Waikīkī Aquarium
Our daughter dips her hands into the reef
exhibit—touches a sea cucumber and red urchin
as butterflyfish swim by. A docent explains: one night
a year, after the full moon, after the tide rises
to a certain height, after saltwater reaches the right
temperature, only then the ocean will cue swollen
polyps to spawn, in synchrony, a galaxy
of gametes, which will surface, open, fertilize,
form larvae, root to seafloor, and grow generation
upon generation. At home, we read a children’s
book, The Great Barrier Reef, to our daughter
snuggling between us in bed. There’s no mention
of corals bleaching, reared in labs, or frozen
in vaults. And isn’t that, too, a kind of shelter?