Two Poems

Diaspora Sonnet 11

In absence of blackbirds I give you
a diamond-studded sky.

In absence of heat, let there be
a window. Let it be lacquered

with the slow dust of our bodies
settling the sill. In absence of

our bodies, let there be a skein
of geese arrowing past. I give

you the veins of dead vines
festooning the frame. I give

placidity in certain places,
holy with our breath. Let me

smell the once clover-rich field
where we once dwelt, sugared and thick.

Diaspora Sonnet 13

I persist in a moment like a solarium.
Window, window, window – sunlit

and slow. A hum of memory. Bee-buzz
rattle of glass against pane as planes

write their misunderstandings above.
I am held by the abandoned lattice

where the wisteria bones form beautiful
cages in their reckless climb up the trellis.

Dear nowhere, I was a girl a minute ago.
I was asleep in the clear chambers of a heart.

I was a secret note in the back of a drawer
sliding forward as you pull the pulls.

I cannot be apart from you, having adored
all these durable moments from which you flee.