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"Practice Makes Perfect"

28 June, 2013

Let’s read some poetry

Filed under: I can write poetry — csa1 @ 16:30

http://www.emule.com/poetry/?page=top_poems

ELEGY

by Derek Walcott

I sent you, in Martinique, maître,
the unfolding letter of a sail, a letter
beyond the lines of blindingly white breakers,
of lace-laden surplices and congregational shale.
I did not send any letter, though it flailed on the wind,
your island is always in the haze of my mind
with the blown-about sea-birds
in their creole clatter of vowels, maître among makers,
whom the reef recites when the copper sea-almonds blaze,

beacons to distant Dakar, and the dolphin’s acres.

Derek Walcott, published in WHITE EGRETS

SUMMER ELEGIES

                             I

Cynthia, the things we did,

our hands growing more bold as

the unhooked halter slithered

from sunburnt shoulders!

 

Tremblingly I unfixed it

and the two white quarter-moons

unpeeled there like a frisket,

and burnt for afternoons.

 

We made one shape in water

while in sea grapes a dove

gurgled astonished “Ooos” at

the changing shapes of love.

 

Time lent us the whole island,

now heat and image fade

like foam lace, like the tan

on a striped shoulder blade.

 

Salt dried in every fissure,

and,  from each sun-struck day,

I peeled the papery tissue

of my dead flesh away;

 

it feathered as I blew it

from reanointed skin,

feeling love could renew it-

self, and a new life begin.

 

A halcyon day. No sail.

the sea like cigarette paper

smoothed by a red thumbnail,

then creased to a small square.

 

The bay shines like tinfoil

crimps like excelsior;

all the beach chairs are full,

but the beach is emptier.

 

The snake hangs its old question

on almond or apple tree;

I had her breast to rest on,

the rest was History.

                            II

…/…

 

12
 

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