What I Would Bring You If I Could
by Mary Alexandra Agner
Humidity that went from gone to green
in miles just as lava weathered into wet
in minutes, waterfalls that lived hidden
by eye-blink, hissing just beyond arm’s reach
of road that circles mountain after mountain
groaning with the metal weight of telescopes.
How can I carry what the poets’ words
have kept alive through occupation
when my ancestors walked other islands
than this southern light and heat?
The songs will shift the medium that moves
no matter what I feel I have to prove.