قصيدة Chrysalis by LJ Bovey
Corona used to be just the name of a beer
I’d have a few
Twice a year
On the odd occasion, I’d go out
I wish I could go out
Corona used to be just the name of a beer
I’d have a few
Twice a year
On the odd occasion, I’d go out
I wish I could go out
In sixth grade Mrs. Walker
slapped the back of my head
and made me stand in the corner
for not knowing the difference
To pull the metal splinter from my palm
.my father recited a story in a low voice
.I watched his lovely face and not the blade
Before the story ended, he’d removed
In the steamer is the trout
,seasoned with slivers of ginger
.two sprigs of green onion, and sesame oil
,We shall eat it with rice for lunch
,People have been trying to kill me since I was born
a man tells his son, trying to explain
.the wisdom of learning a second tongue
It’s an old story from the previous century
A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
–In an evening of July
.For marriage, love and love alone’s the argument
Sweet ceremony, then hand in hand we go
.Taking to our changed, still dangerous days, our complement
We think we know ourselves, but all we know
There is no need they say
but the needles still move
their rhythms in the working of your hands
as easily
,Bathsheba came out to the sun
;Out to our wallèd cherry-trees
,The tears adown her cheek did run
,Bathsheba standing in the sun
First
there was some other order of things
never spoken
.but in dreams of darkest creation