That Painful Edge of Light ALISA VELAJ
(An imaginary dialogue with Garcia Lorca) He had told me Granada Hills Differ not a lot From the hills of my birthplace He had also told me Winds have no homelands ‘Perfumes – flowers – knives’ You once wrote And I knew not that such a melody Sprinkles guitar sounds at evenings Even light has no homeland I had told you Dawn is dawn on all shores And none has ever angered At flowers Perfumes and serenades and oranges Your endless Andalusia, my darling So I know not which orange Shelters that painful edge of light Or you might have picked it up And now you dislike telling me the truth. KELLY POLSIN
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