Читать книгу You Teach Me Light - Melaney Poli - Страница 12

On a small island

in the green water of a harbor

a ship sits upright on the sandy bottom

barely visible in clouds of murk and hearsay

under my eight- nine- ten-year old feet.

Beautiful Hawai’i has on her endless summer.

On a day like this things were blown to pieces.

“Men died here”: but it doesn’t translate

to my experience. The circle of island

sits in a sky of perfect light. Only the sun

breaks on these waves. The ship is berthed

in its own past, its sky too remote to imagine.

It’s the first place I remember, tall blue

over adobe wall, the roadrunner highlighted

like a flash of lightning. The light was like

another world, white shouting, forever

in my eye. Everything was gathered,

every measure fled. Everywhere,

to this day, the sky is Arizona.