In Africa
the Sukuma shaman
wears a crisscross of cowries
a bandolier of prayershells
for the souls of the slaves
dead on the ships
I imagine myself in a harness of shells
driven to pray for the souls
of the recently extinct
Reader we are going down
In the deeps you see
the Moon shell’s spiral
and isn’t it a symbol
of somebody’s faith?
The moon snail is larger than its shell
no mystery when it slithers out puddles
white like egg whites fried to a solid ruffle
translucent above the whorl of its shell
so it’s visible to nonbelievers
I dreamed that a friend took me to a lake
and there were mollusks like moon snails
chinawhite impermeably solid
and my friend wanted me to see
they could swim free of their shells
float just fine and I was gladdened
yes that’s the word gladdened