The Emigree Flashcards
(14 cards)
There once was a country I left it as a child
but my memory of it is sunlight-clear
The worst news I receive of it cannot break
my original view, the bright, filled paperweight
It may be at war, it may be sick with tyrants,
but I am branded by an impression of sunlight
The white streets of that city,
the graceful slopes glow
time rolls
its tanks
That child’s vocabulary I carried here
like a hollow doll, opens and spills a grammar
banned by
the state
It tastes
of sunlight.
I have no passport,
there’s no way back at all
my city comes to me
in its own white plane
I comb its hair and
love its shining eyes
My city takes me dancing
through the city of walls
They accuse me of
absence, they circle me
My city hides behind me
my shadow falls as evidence of sunlight