Emigree

• The worst news I receive of it cannot break my original view, the bright filled paperweight
• My city takes me dancing through the city of walls. They accuse me of absence, they circle me
• There once was a country. I left it as a child but my memory of it is sunlight clear
• It may be at war, it may be sick with tyrants, but I am branded by an impression of sunlight
• That child's vocabulary I carried here like a hollow doll, opens and spills a grammar.
• It lies down in front of me, docile as paper; I comb its hair and love its shining eyes
• They mutter death, and my shadow falls as evidence of sunlight