From “Mesongs”

XXIV
for Barbara at Devizes


And suddenly you was talking trees
fall black with birds behind the hill
and green as grass fly off
into the sun o blinding girl
the whole cathedral crash at your back


XXV

Not the blue the orthodoxy of the day
But a blue like intuition
The soft of the night into morning
Felt here . remembered
Under the hoofs of the cart

Credit

Copyright © 2010 by Kamau Brathwaite. Used with permission of the author.