look at Camille

her standing next to the flag

look at her standing in the middle of the ocean

a place her mother has never been

or her mother’s mother

some thought you were a statue of liberty
and some thought this was a sort of circus, the crowd
holding carrier pigeons and popcorn
and some even wanted a spill, or blood

look at the buoy as she balances, the copper color of algae

look at the way she holds her chin

to the crowd

red stones replace our mothers/ that tiny slit between your teeth

water rising and glacial melt

and we will all be new islands, like this one