A Daughter
“A Daughter:
—
“Long-awaited storm cloud. Desert snow.
A cloister fountain with a gold-coin floor.
The glint of azure trapped in iron ore.
A murmuration high on vertigo.
Arab coffee. Plum-dark rum. My last—I promise—
cigarette, spooling its strand of silky grey.
A ship back from the land of spice.
Long purple seaweed in prismatic sway.
Salty. Silty. Scuffed. Alluvial.
The first A-minor chord—scratchy, in vinyl—
in Late-Golden Light, a Schubert Lied. Ripe grain,
chin-high, outside Córdoba or Seville,
but seen at night, and from an old steam train.
Venice in sun. Venice in fog. Venice in rain.” — Michael Lavers; Southern Poetry Review vol. 60:2—Two Children, p. 35
Josh Clare
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