for Linda & Carroll & Zulaika
Across parting seas whose arguments freeze in fold
back a player strums and chips; voices adoring pour
life sought after.
From hearth razed rubble in city husks once home
militias lift their heads, leave time out, let them through all
wave and recognition.
No unpaid piper children red scarf taken; rosary
with followers hailing making Mary scene. Tide
high expectation:
a mother will give birth to twins; a space ship lowers
stairs; a scent to rapture near, always near.
-W.W.
WAITING
like a radio for your voice
to speak through me, I can only buzz and hum
as though my dial's at an open station.
So I pad about like a caged cat
and on the wave of that rhythm contemplate
the about-to-ring bell about my tight throat.
(from "Scratches On The Air" by Brian Chan)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 