The Ammonite

A poem told from the perspective of someone immortal

My primetime years
Slither past me; spineless, coiling—
supposed to create an arch to my back;
One that I’ll surrender to
Still, I bear the weight of the young.

Lost in the lullabies
Of whatever years I feel I have earned
I learn nothing of lessons
Taught to me from travelers
Who know their time still comes

It is in the moments within;
When I hear the sound the moon makes
In this crushing dark that lifts me
Her craters — porous skin, doused in iridescence
Whistle in an ageless sky
Where no wind passes.

And a thousand speckled stars lay at rest upon my nose bridge
Like dots of sun on a fawn
Ripples of a faraway star kissing the depths of the seabed
It is the farthest the sun can reach
The moon pulls the tides closer.

They battle for who can bring the ocean closest
It is a war that tugs eternity.

I allow the years to pass.

And in these hushes
On the sun kissed seabed
Finally, I coil— 
Place that arch in my back
One that I’ll surrender to
For, still
I bear the weight of the young.