Alem at the window; see her
white cloth, her hands
in yellow gloves, and behind her
darkness. Good morning!
a call from the tower,
on the steps Matteo reading
Bolaňo, then voices, or is it
radio? At the black window
yellow hands open, then
all you see is white
moving, her cloth flat, circling-
a swerve of swallows
plunges the courtyard.
Now Matteo closes
his book, a telephone rings
and from the kitchen
plates clatter and silverware, as
higher up, a back-flip
of yellow. The sun is blaring
a fracas of bird call
breaks the air, Alem
in the window
a white rose, then yellow, yellow
rising like a child's sun.
- Honor Moore (Director's Guest 2010)
Bolaňo, then voices, or is it
radio? At the black window
yellow hands open, then
all you see is white
moving, her cloth flat, circling-
a swerve of swallows
plunges the courtyard.
Now Matteo closes
his book, a telephone rings
and from the kitchen
plates clatter and silverware, as
higher up, a back-flip
of yellow. The sun is blaring
a fracas of bird call
breaks the air, Alem
in the window
a white rose, then yellow, yellow
rising like a child's sun.
- Honor Moore (Director's Guest 2010)
 |
| Alem Araya |
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