by Paula Lietz |
Almassera
Night
Nightingales fresh from the south flute in the
dark.
We listen weighed down by history from four
until dawn
when the aquaducts thrill to a tentative tinkle,
a sudden gurgle, the headlong tumble of water.
Arab hands shaped and laid out the troughs
and pipes under rock, under sand, along the base
of terraces walled by the Romans—stairs climbing
right to the top of the mountain. The call to
prayer
was smothered by bells and confessions, sinners
on bleeding knees who shuffled uphill
past twelve alcoven stations below the
hermitage.
Moorish ruins burn gold in the amber floodlights
that seep into our room like old beliefs—
like the dregs of a prayer, a trickle of grief
from the earth,
so many ancient sorrows that ought to be gone—
wiped out by the weight of god upon god upon
god.
Judith
Barrington is the author of three poetry collections, most
recently Horses and the Human Soul,
selected by Oregon’s State Library for "150 Books for the
Sesquicentennial". Among her awards are The Dulwich International Poetry
Prize and The Stuart Holbrook Award from Literary Arts. She teaches in the
University of Alaska’s MFA Program.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Untitled Country Review welcomes comments. Comments are moderated... Thank you for visiting.