I.
By the shallow river
we watched the red charcoals
by the deep lines of the old man’s arms
sun burned,
barbecuing corn for the crowd
on his silver ring a singular blue shined in the dark
the blue of this land
the color of her mountains’ heart
that paints the domes and the tiling of the walls
along the ancient caravan roads
by the shallow river
we touched the soft algae the and the stone’s freckles and the arms branching
flowers among the kindness of the town’s people
velvet flames, rustling in the August breeze.
That day, we had come from the mountain
I had seen a cow high above the see
and a dog that seemed menacing
but turned out friendly.
II
3:00 am
the gas station
is still warm
on the slippery ground
young men play soccer
under the street lights
those unbroken
through empty streets
with ease we pass pulsating yellow lights
half sleep in the back of the old car
I think of the day
purely
in its colors
absorbent radiant blue
light creamy browns’
dull comfort
to this the eyes turn to:
by the dry gutters
idle men sit in dusty shops and stare
in my heart something coils up and relaxes like a violin.
III.
a halo and a few lines remain of
a flower’s white sleep on the black stone of heaven:
my city
on the runway
spheres of blue
illuminate our way to stars
my face on a naked tree
on the half reflecting divide
into the southern wind, we sail
away from the north star.