THE SAND HILL REVIEW http://www.sandhillreview.org 2003
Between what I
have forgotten &
What is lost
in translation, I gather
Words for my
poems, as the crow
Collected
pebbles for the pitcher.
Sleepy roofs
of summer nights
Hazelnut,
fresh in its cradle of green taffeta
The air of
bread baked on hot stones &
Rose-glycerin
on chapped hands
Where is the
key to my old, old home?
Sparrow,
beautiful sparrow
What did my
mother call you?
From santoor to santoor
Corolla,
sapphire, estuary
How did I call
your names?
Was it the fox
or the wolf?
Who ate the
grapes?
Wall of
wisteria & shadow
Jump rope,
hopscotch, leapfrog
The oceanic
body
Between palms
of the hands &
Soles of the
feet
Water Salt
Water