They rise out of the sea
ninety-nine kindly green giants
shielded by coconut palms, eucalyptus,
ferns. Acacias’ crimson blooms dot
their humped backs, like monstrous
drops of blood. They’ve endured
too many million years
for me to count,
silent and solitary, guardians
of the Malaysian shore, the endless waves
of the Andaman Sea lapping, lapping.
I feast on the floating sculpture garden,
gumdrops formed by glacial retreat.
I want answers from these mysterious
mounds, not from a geologist or one
who maps the ocean’s depths.
I want to know from them — what god
took clay to form your karsted souls?
What trauma deep within the sea
thrust you up 50 million years ago
toward the unrelenting sky?

Sandi Stromberg has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Her full-length poetry collection Frogs Don’t Sing Red was released by Kelsay Books in April 2023. Her work is widely published in literary journals and anthologies, including Unknotting the Line: Poetry in Prose, Panoply, MockingHeart Review, and San Pedro Review. She serves on the editorial staff of The Ekphrastic Review.