Poem For June
(written in Melbourne, April 15, 2013)
It was you who first islanded me,
who showed me how to step from
bony spine to bony spine,
waters of history and endless time
lapping at volcanic determination.
You freed for me the lyric possibilities
of island memory.
Of how to eat a mango, the poet, your friend, sang.
Of how to find the beaten flesh and hunker down
In caves deep in mountains' sides
Until the tyrants drowned in those
Blue seas ringed by flaming trees.
For twenty years we scoured texts,
Flesh and seed to feed
Our students' quest.
Now I am 73
And live upon an island continent
Far from where we started.
But I have my island legs,
And more, your voices deep within me.
(From June I learned the wonders of Caribbean women poets and followed her hands upon the map of the Islands and Guyana.)