Faith Shearin

Buried

This is my mother turned towards the ocean
and this is my daughter digging a hole

the size of a dinosaur's thigh. Mother pauses
to survey the horizon which is a pair
of thin blue lips. Mavis faces me --

at the center of her circle like a pupil
in an eye. It is always summer

in this photo and everywhere there are lines:
between sand and water, or water
and sky. The shutter opens and closes,

sifts through our family's drifted history.
Why do I love this picture?
Is it the colors that drip

and cry? Or the hole
my daughter digs which is full

of my own shadow? I am
what is found and what is covered up --
part truth, part lie.

- Faith Shearin