Thursday, August 9, 2007

Constanza @ Robin des Bois

She told me to look up at the leaves
which I knew to be catalpa
big and green and flecked with light
like something under water

Perhaps the answer is
she said
that we are longing for landscape

For me
she said
it is the tropics
even though I grew up in the cold, the grey of the Andes

I can see myself in Miami
she said
in a white house

My house, I said
is a single stone storey
with a wrap around porch and tin roof for the rain

As you move down from the heights
she said
the grass grows thicker
the leaves bigger the flowers

For me
I said
it is grassland and hills

That is all

Within these Brooklyn, bluestoned streets
we both proceed south
with longing

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