Poetry Daily: http://www.poems.com/


Quetzal: you write
           the word on a sheet of paper
                       then erase it;

each word, a talisman,
           leaves a track: a magpie
                       struts across a portal

and vanishes from sight;
           when you bite into sea urchin,
                       ocean currents burst

in your mouth; and when
           you turn, gaze at the white shutters
                       to the house,

up the canyon, a rainbow
           arcs into clouds;
                       expectancies, fears, yearnings—

hardly bits of colored glass
           revolving in a kaleidoscope:
                       mist rising from a hot spring

along a river; suddenly
           you are walking toward Trinity Site
                       looking for glass

and counting minutes
           of exposure under the sun;
                       suddenly small things ignite.

Arthur Sze


Issue 71 - 2017

To view this poem online, visit the Poetry Daily archive at http://www.poems.com/archive.php
View a large-print version of this poem