Justin Rutledge
Islands
At the mouth of the open sea the leaves will be turning redWhile the man that they thought I could be lives in a book you readWhere the coast is uncomfortably close the sturgeon have fledI supposed that with a Japanese rose I could undo youSo I pinned it to youThere’s an island straight ahead named after a dead manWhere the crest at the tip of its wrist is ladled with virgin sandWhere the coast is indelibly close we’ll strike up the bandAnd I’ll wonder whether we were the ones who meant nothing to youThe ones who withdrew youHeavy the hand, heavy the harvestSteady the hand, steady the harnessPray for the land, pray for the locustPray for the land, pray for the locustAt the mouth of the open sea the wedding is winding downAll the guests are beginning to mourn the death of a wedding gownYour ghost is unbearably close – unbearably boundNow the lights make early widows of nights that try to outdo youNow the crows are blackened ribbons and bows that hang from a new youI supposed that with a Japanese rose I could undo youSo I pinned it to youI pinned it to you
From Letras Mania