On New Jersey’s aquaculture maps, unfamiliar names shimmer. I am a land dweller, of the shore but not, like a sea glass shard laid across hot sand. City born but relocated, I’m composed of raw edges.
I peer close, then closer, but the labels remain obscure:
Dry Bay.
Obes Thorofare.
Tices Shoal.
Graveling Point.
Unfazed by my interest, the waters lap the shores of hidden inlets, flowing constant in a tongue unknown.
Jenn Hall 