Enjoy another poem entitled "Doris At The River", by poet of the month, Ishion Hutchinson. It certainly has been a real pleasure featuring the work of this extremely talented Jamaican poet.
Doris At The River
There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke.
- Shakespeare, Hamlet
Her melody broke through a shell
over the town that August we found
her in the arms of native Ariel,
strands of hair and leaves in her mouth.
Who knew she lived in such troubled
branches, in the corners of daydreams,
singing the perfect epitaph:
All things that you possess, possess their death.
The river streaked into a brown mirror,
the tail of her slime-green dress brushed
fallen woods of decay as we pulled her out.
Her hands were clasped on her chest.
This was the work of devotion,
not art - the silver of love, cracked.
Ants draped her eyelids, indifferent
to the sun and us staring down.
Copyright Ishion Hutchinson 2010. Far District. Peepal Tree Press Ltd. Leeds, UK.
Reprinted with author's permission.
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