Today's poem is by Myronn Hardy
Making Stars with Jacob Lawrence
The only cardboard we had was the box
where those red-scaled fish were frozen
whole. The grocer who owns the two
stores presented it to us when we
visited his home of cedar pillars glass.
We drank bitter wine ate spongy rolls
with strange cheese discussed
the project of his country
How the horizon blinked when I
heard water sand in funnels.
The ashen clouds were royal with blue as I
pressed my palm to my chest.
The fish are thawing for today's lunch.
As I flatten the box a plane Jacob draws
seven stars cuts each with a Japanese blade.
On metallic paper they are traced
fourteen times cut with scissors glued
front to back each side a mirror. Fish-line
is attached to each so they may hang from
the sloping boughs of the grumichama.
They sway night's unassertive
light reflects crests craters bounce
from one to another. Beneath
the tree wind-spun stars a play.
A boy missing the moon a wandering
girl humming friends laughing unaware
of his elaborate sorrow. The air will hoard
this occasion in its slender history.
Copyright © 2013 Myronn Hardy All rights reserved
from Catastrophic Bliss
Bucknell University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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