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Wednesday, February 26, 2014

PANTOUM WITH STOLEN LINES





Pantoum with Stolen Lines

Just beneath sleepy skin
my pulse is doing a waltz,
pushes beyond the ocean swell
of sea, seagull and seagrass.

My pulse sways like a waltz
(or maybe a polka, it’s hard to tell) –
of sea, seagull and seagrass
from a country I left years ago.

Or is it more like flamenco?
That duende guitar, the hard beat
from a homeland I left long ago?
Is it music at all, or just wind?

Ay, duende, guitar, heart beat
beyond a glassy-green Pacific:
(Is it music?  Is it wind?) -- feather
tight the boundaries of skin.

- DEBORAH MIRANDA



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