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Turning from one another
we became like islands,
intently drifting in search
of our own weather.

Finding our distance,
we anchored ourselves
deep, solid and lush
seeds for growth,

and as we learned to harvest
rainwater, we created
children who grew
fertile and resilient.

Bred on survival, they guarded
our shores and prospered:
isolation bestowed fortune
upon them, as we'd hope.

But there were some,
prying little creatures,
who went beyond
their given boundaries,

they ventured down
to the ocean floor,
devoid of hesitation,
searching for signs.

And so we fretted, knowing
they'd soon find them,
those veiled arms of ours
which had refused to let go.



Dariel Suarez was born in Havana, Cuba, where he lived until 1997. He currently resides in Miami, FL with his
wonderful wife and a large number of books. He is attending Florida International University, where he was a
winner in both the Fiction and Poetry categories at the 2009 Literary Awards. Dariel's works have appeared or
are forthcoming in elimae, Vain, Every Day Poets, Mad Swirl, The Cynic Online, and Metromorphosis.







The poem was not planned, but very often that's how most satisfying material comes to fruition, in my opinion. Though originally I wasn't sure about the last stanza, my wife told me she loved it. She's my toughest critic, so I trusted her judgment. I'm glad I did.

I sent the poem, as part of a group, to a couple of literary journals, and it got rejected. I then decided to put it aside for a while, discuss it with some of my writer friends and perhaps send it out again. Everyone seemed to like the imagery and the overall feel of the poem, so I decided to look for journals once more. When I came across Foundling Review and its wonderful content, I thought it a good fit.

As for the poem's theme, I'd been thinking about how often we separate ourselves from people we love, whether family, friends, lovers. 

Then one question came to mind: are the connections between us ever truly broken for good? For some reason the word island kept surfacing and so when I decided to sit down and write a poem, the opening stanza practically wrote itself. I had no idea where the piece was going, but I surrendered myself and followed it. Everything else that's in the poem occurred naturally, all the way to the end. I very much liked the notion that we all stay connected even if this connection is hidden.

  


Copyright 2009