Between the thing and the name of it, is a world;
and a world behind this world. There is my mask placed on the table.
There is the wooden tabletop and the space beneath it. There is an orange on the floor
when it should be on the table in the yellow basket meant for oranges
(but which contains a cat). There is the cat, licking one front paw in the basket
as if nothing were. What do cats know of manners? What do birds know of water
unless they plunge their beaks into it breaking some poor fish's sleep. What do [End Page 164]
fish know of birds except the slash of bill, the sudden flash and stop.
Danielle Legros Georges is a professor at Lesley University and author of Maroon, a collection of poems. Her poems have also been published in such periodicals as Agni, The Caribbean Writer, American Poetry Review, and Black Renaissance/Renaissance Noir. She has received an LEF Foundation Fellowship and a MacDowell Fellowship for her work. She was born in Haiti.