‘La Terre qui est Un Astre’
after Prévert
Maybe it’s true that we only
know one song. It’s late
afternoon, a moment of winter,
and in an instant the mind’s
plates slide out of juncture
on this earth which is a star
and this is that park in Caen
where you talked of my face
gazing out from your mirror,
where I walked away from you
one berry-ripe afternoon the far
side of summer, where I
kept walking, and, as you’d
asked, didn’t look back.
– Roselle Angwin (from All the Missing Names of Love, forthcoming from IDP)
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