By William Stanley Braithwaite
Two women on the lone wet strand
(The wind’s out with a will to roam)
The waves wage war on rocks and sand,
(And a ship is long due home.)
The sea sprays in the women’s eyes—
(Hearts can writhe like the sea’s wild foam)
Lower descend the tempestuous skies,
(For the wind’s out with a will to roam.)
“O daughter, thine eyes be better than mine,”
(The waves ascend high as yonder dome)
“North or south is there never a sign?”
(And a ship is long due home.)
They watched there all the long night through—
(The wind’s out with a will to roam)
Wind and rain and sorrow for two—
(And heaven on the long reach home.)
Poet Bio
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Another Antipastoral
I want to put down what the mountain has awakened.
My mouthful of grass.
My curious tale. I want to stand still but find myself moved patch by patch.
There's a bleat in my throat. Words fail me here. Can you understand? I...
Whenever you see a tree
Think
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to maybe carry it to maybe the right spot
where again it waited months for seasons to change
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Grain Memory
A wishbone branch falls
from my Grandma Thelma’s oak
for me.
What do you know about magic? e1 asks.
E bends e old body down, turns
the wishbone branch into
a cross, places it around my neck.
I am strapped at the Black River’s right shoulder,
remembering my...
Mi Casa
When I was a boy
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Someone once told...