First May Selection, 2011

Enso


life preservers

sweet life savers

rings on fingers

pink aura around

the moon

mouth shape

of surprise

mind of visions

--Joyce Pointe

second and third May Selections

Moisture Becomes Us

birds are languid
in this air damp
like the ocean

the rain outside
rattles and taps;
in the chair
the glottal cat

eaves drip here,
in Spain, and everywhere

deep in a cave
a large drop fills
languid, without meaning;
fallen-away cares

--Ellen Skagerberg

Bay St. Louis Triptych (Mississippi)

daredevil seagulls
dive into saltwater
mercury Gulf

post-apocalypse
mud-orange oil at the waterline
flies on catfish

ocean morning
turning sideways to the wind
the great rushing recedes

--Ellen Skagerberg

fourth May Selection

Inevitable y Luna

Eres una ausencia blanca y luminosa

Tan presente que pareces cercana

Pero estás lejos y tan inalcanzable

Convertida en anhelo desde siempre

Tan fugaz, tan perenne y pasajera

Tu me llenas tan sólo de mirarte

Y no eres suficiente nunca, Luna.

Cómo hacemos con esta inconsistencia

Eres todo y la nada en cada instante

Mariposa de hielo que no alcanzo

Luminosa caricia que me abraza

Eres mi paradoja favorita

El espejo más fiel de mi inconstancia

La constancia más fiel de mis deseos

Si tan sólo no huyeras sigilosa

Si pudiera tocar tu rostro de ángel

Pero no puedo nunca retenerte

Atrapar tu blanquísima substancia

Eres libre ineludiblemente

Y, qué irónico, yo soy tu esclava.

--Lilyan de la Vega

fourth May Selection, translation

Inevitable Moon

You are a blank, luminous absence

With such a presence that you appear close

But you are far—and unreachable

Turned, as always, into deep longing

So fleeting –perpetual—passing

Merely with looking at you, I am fulfilled

And you are never enough, Moon.

What are we to make of this inconsistency

You are all--and you are the void--at the same instant

Icy butterfly that I can’t touch

Luminous caress embracing me

You are my favorite paradox

The faithful mirror of my own inconstancy

The faithful constancy of my own desires

If you only didn't flee so furtively

If I could touch your angelic face

But I am never able to keep you

Hunt down your white substance

You are inevitably free,

And ironically, I am your slave

--trans. by Deanna Hopper and Lilyan de la Vega