Exile
Rent from DeepDyve- Exile
Exile
On the morning I leftmy country, sunlight
thrust through the cloudsthe way it does after a raw
autumn rain, sky stippledwith blue like a young mackerel,
leaf puddles blinking silver,sweet western wind gusting
fresh as paint, and a flockof giddy hens rushing pellmell
into the mud; and I kneltin the sodden grass and gathered
my acres close, like starchedskirts; I shook out the golden
tamaracks, and a scuffle of jaystumbled into my spread apron;
I tucked a weary child into each coatpocket, wrapped the quiet
garden neat as a shroudround my lover's warm heart,
cut the sun from its mooringsand hung it, burnished and fierce, [End Page 113]
over my shield arm—a ponderousweight to ferry so far across the waste—
through long nights ahead, I'll blessits brave and crazy fire.
Dawn Potter is the author of two collections of poetry, most recently How the Crimes Happened, forthcoming from CavanKerry Press. Tracing Paradise, her memoir about copying out all of Paradise Lost word for word, will be released by the University of Massachusetts Press in 2009. She is associate director of the Frost Place Conference on Poetry and Teaching and lives in Harmony, Maine.
