Moonlight, if I sleep on this bank
and lay my head against your kiss,
I recognize the river’s sound.
Timeless me, all day I raise
my knife against the sugar cane,
sugar brute who takes my days for pay.
Sun glow in spring is crystal clean.
Sun glow north, sun glow south,
sun glow summer, sun glow fall.
The fall of sweetness weighs me.
Aribú of the sweetest god,
will this or what winter
be the longest sleep?
I serenade his green fingers,
his water’s magic, his boot in the earth,
the way he pulls the green crowns to light.
Aribú of the grainy god,
will this or what fall
be the desolation of our mother?
I serenade the return of even light
to her wrinkled face.
Moonlight, now I lie on the crown
of my own desire,
in the fall of the god,
the fall of the cane,
the fall of my own night.
Jay Wright, “Lundú” from Transfigurations: Collected Poems. Copyright © 2000 by Jay Wright. Reprinted by permission of Jay Wright.
Source: Transfigurations: Collected Poems
(Louisiana State University Press, 2000)