Or Can’t You See How They All Stare At Us Even the Birds Resting on Their Hands?
a pantoum, after The Immigrants’ Boat by Marilene Sawaf
Packed against one another clothed in dreams
Upholding the flame of freedom for a mast
See how multicolored fish leap out around the hull
In quieted waters silvery fins quiver awaiting a net
Upholding the flame of freedom for a mast
Past and future fit into the wooden vessel
In quieted waters silvery fins quiver awaiting a net
While they rest under the shade of pregnant trees
Past and future fit into the wooden vessel
They are wearing Sunday clothes yet to be sewn
While they rest under the shade of pregnant trees
They sample ripened pomegranates and pink peaches
They are wearing Sunday clothes yet to be sewn
After fighting maddened waves for so long
They sample ripened pomegranates and pink peaches
They’ve slipped through the eye of a needle
After fighting maddened waves for so long
How sweet it is to emerge unscathed in extremis
They’ve slipped through the eye of a needle
Reaching a place where the wind is silent
How sweet it is to emerge unscathed in extremis
Future wraps itself around them in a colorful mantle
Reaching a place where the wind is silent
The cat slumbers as the restless dog rushes to the rooftop