The earth and the sea are one
with the sound of color.
Here on an open boat,
as I read
from my own tongue
my Russian poems,
mouths widen on deck
aboard the S.S. Pushkin
We claw on deck
for first light
as sunflowers
are presented to me
in the scattered dusk
on the open deck
of the Siberian home harbor.
With early birdsong,
now a hearty kvas
in a long glass
is drunk
with a youth’s energy.
