Dad’s achievement can’t be beat—
Our family was the first to fin onshore.
We’re as rich as Croesus, 
But oh, the blood sacrifices:

Those of us who made it safely
To the beach gave thanks. We mixed
Our blood with sand and built castles.

The waves knocked them down.

We walked inland, made mud pies
Out of the blood of our enemies
And their former home, the dirt.
The New Gods refused our offering.

We stained wood, stone, and concrete
With the blood of animals. Earth broke
Into a sweat. The water rose
And washed our cities away.

We shot our blood into space.

The sun stuck out one of its tongues
For a taste. The water hissed
And disappeared. Dad says, No regrets.

The moment her fins touched land,
Mom left us. She stood upright, tied a bindle
To a stick, and cloaked herself in bitterness.

A witch may have given her a magic gift.
A sprite may have offered her a wish. More likely,
There was alcoholism and a listing ship.

A fortuneteller prophesied her return.

I’ve glimpsed her in my mirror.
So has my sister.