Song of Tsunami

By J. Villanueva

—after Bruce Weigl

After the earthquake, after the waves receded,
We heard the skipper on the P.A. announce 
That we were on a popular beach. 
We stared at the coast from the ship—
The sun reflecting off of washed sand—
Hues of yellows and whites.
I had never seen something more calm,
Almost expressionless. Before that day
I would have never beheld something 
More serene in that morning sun. 
We were quiet, 
But our voices could have been carried 
In the wind and joined with the smoke 
Above the city I just now remember. 

Okay. The waves receded.
I’ve never been honest with myself,
Especially back when I was younger
When I toured the Pacific for a party.
I still thought of myself as a hero then.
My heart was not quite the rock it is now.

But our empty words were wind mixed with black
Smoke from house fires after the earthquake.
When it's quiet I still hear the cries of a father
Running towards me, ripping the child’s body
Out from my arms, her uniform barely hanging
On pale shoulders and full belly. Palms open
As if waiting for his embrace.

So I can write this,
So I can continue to breathe,
I force myself to daydream. Pretend 
I got there a day earlier on the same ship,
Saw those open palms rise towards the sky 
Above the shattering earth, above the waves.

But swells crash around jetties and wake me. 
And a daydream never lasts as long as it should. 
And a father can only repeat her name so many times
As the leftover water in his lungs allows—
Until his words become wind and the ground gives way
Beneath him. In a knee-high street flood, I gasp for air—

I still drown 
Sometimes. Nothing can make me forget
The feel of the sea parting 
Around my legs, the ice
Of her small body. And not any pat on the back
Or any thank you for your service, 
And especially not this beautiful beach sunrise 
With BBQ smoke rising to the sky could ever let me.

****

J. Villanueva is a Chicano writer/poet & Marine Corps Veteran from deep south Texas. Currently, J. has words featured or forthcoming in The Iowa Review (where he was named runner up in the Jeff Sharlet Memorial Award for Veterans), Huizache, Taco Bell Quarterly, The Acentos Review, and more. His debut chapbook, Roadside Fruteria, was published in June 2022. He earned his MFA in 2024 at the University of Texas-Rio Grande Valley.