Poem of the Day
1981
By Asiya Wadud
in a world the orange sun resets
in a world the orange sun resets
I gave you sorrow to hang on your wall
Like a calendar in one color.
I wear a torn place on my sleeve.
Now the small buds are pronged
to the boughs like candle-butts.
Steaming April! The adolescent park
I can still hear her.
She hobbles downstairs to the kitchen.
She is swearing at the dishes.
But never fall from fealty to light.
You said, Melville? Now, by God, sir, why not?
The pall is comfortable enough; as soon rot
So huge is God’s despair
In the wild cactus plain
I heard Him weeping there
Come celebrate, kinsmen, the twilight of freedom,
The darkening conscience, the great year obscured;
Into the boiling waters of nightfall
I shall not see the famous Phédre
In the ancient theatre crowned with tiers,
Its gallery rising smoky, high,
Tousle-haired star
Hurrying into nothing
Out of a horrid nowhere
Tighter and tighter wringing my hands
Till they be riven—
Between us are not the miles of earth
The grapes in the royal garden have rusted
And the concubine, waiting, sleeps by the wall.
Veins of Palestine, heavy with sap,