11,33 Poesía de Elvis Rafael

 

"It’s all subtle and submarine,

through colonnades of coral,

past the gothic windows of sea-fans

to where the crusty grouper, onyx-eyed,

blinks, weighted by its jewels, like a bald queen"

-Derek walcott

Warm up the tongue.

Torn sea remembers

the foam carries old stories

from broken vessels.

Island divided

tongues crossing each other’s roots

creole blossoms rise.

Whips’ fading shadows

merge into the coastal sand

crickets still echo.

River of red blood

the sky turns a deeper blue

after the storm’s rage. 

#hurricaneseason

Old salted fishes

hang from the wooden window

childhood scents linger.

On the horizon

a single line of fire

burns above the waves.

With every shoreline

memory is reborn again

the people’s own voice.

-E.R

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