Belém do Pará, Amazônia, Brazil
All night smoke drifts
through the windows
bits of leaves and trees
lives of others
arrive on the air
lizards and tatus
(armadillos)
capivaras
the slow sloths
hand over hand
never flee
fast enough
smoke lines the throat
a film moves
across my eyes
around no one
seems to heed
*
Far in the interior,
Explore related work
Laura-Gray Street & Ann Fisher-Wirth Ann Fisher-Wirth & Laura-Gray Street on the ecopoetry in this issue.
Anthony Cody stdnt sks / hw s th flyng thng splld? / tchr sys / ll th sft lttrs hv blwn ff. . . .
January Gill O’Neil Here the water is silt-brown, / stretches mile-wide, / flat as a washed-out conveyor belt, / an unhemmed rumble strip.