The temple is almost gone. Its remains settle snugly into a niche surrounded by grasses and poppies. The sun is so hot it turns the sky white, burns the chlorophyll out of the tops of the plants, putting all the colors together and makes everything seem bright and otherworldly. It’s like finding an old shin bone in the grass. In many years, the stone will have worn further, time folding it gently back into the earth. All the while—if we have stayed away—the poppies will have claimed everything, falling into cracks, stretching their arms out, running over the hills and bones, spots of blood on a handkerchief.
This piece works well and is finely crafted. Only one word bothered me and pulled me away from an understanding of the poem and into “editor mode” – a syntactical error that is easily fixed. This word stands out in both the printed and the performed versions.
The performance is perfect, the author is a talented reader of her own work.
I would love to read or hear more of this poet’s work.
Hi Bob,
I wonder if you could be more specific about what bothered you? In re-reading the poem again, I’m guessing it’s this sentence: “The sun is so hot it turns the sky white, burns the chlorophyll out of the tops of the plants, putting all the colors together and makes everything seem bright and otherworldly.”