The Sunday Poet:Celia Merlin

Celia Merlin

Celia Merlin was born in Lexington, Ky., grew up in Buffalo, N.Y., and moved to Tel Aviv where she now lives, writes, teaches and enjoys her family.  Her work has appeared in various anthologies, receiving numerous honors and recognition. Her debut collection of poems, "Of This Too", recently came out, much to her long awaited delight.

Ships

            “..so on the ocean of life, we pass…”   —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

We sit in the mall café

talking photographs.

The air is plastic,

the music benign.

In a booth near the restroom,

holding tall ice coffees,

you say you’ll be leaving again.

And I know.

In your photos, purple feathers,

headdresses of Kings,

fat crocodile teeth,

plush carpets of pines.

There are women with weavings,

brown children on boats,

angles of blue and

the rust of red soil.

I am losing my breath.

I am nauseous with awe.

I am inside the lens

of your eye.

There are shadows of green,

spreading fingers on rocks, and

Einstein-like webs

in the trees.

I am covered with waves.

I am licking a cloud.

I am climbing a

steeple of slate.

—Is there anything else..?

            the waitress asks.

-No, thanks.

            We pack up and leave.

Each to the corners

we’ve picked for ourselves.

You to your knapsack,

your travel-worn boots.

Me to my words

and the mall.