in the country of belief
In the country of
belief old women read cards
draw them from pouches
embroidered with bronze and gold
offer ways to light the dark
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I lost two cities, lovely ones
tight streets unfolding to the eye.
Boys rise up in old men, wings begin to sprout
and the ports have names for the sea.
We look for communion
(there are easier ways of making sense)
any small thing can save you:
petals on a wet black bough,
the cold flash of the blue, unappeasable sky.
cento portion: Elizabeth bishop, Robert hayden, Pete Fairchild, Auden, Levertov, billy collins, mark doty, ezra pound, Stanley kunitz
“…and the ports have names for the sea.” This poem has a nice fluid abstract pleasant feel. Beautiful imagery.
I really like this. nice feel