The Awareness

by Myronn Hardy

I stand beneath a roof     beneath
a ceiling strewn with green     yellow
ribbons.  I’m clapping to a rhythm

older than this country.  There are
drums.  We move in circles about
the room.  Our soles are dusty.   Above

that roof    stars glare through fog.
You’re swimming with sea stars.
The sea is warm.  The sea is as warm

as the room where I clap    where I know
I’m the nothing you don’t see.
The thought you don’t have.  Forgive

my intrusion.  Forgive my
life.  Forgive my unuttered inquires.
I’ve spared your ears.

To a saint    I offer ananas   crane   canary
melons    roasted corn    beer    red
wine    a cow’s head    hooves    chickens

with farofa.  This may
save me.  This circle
of sustenance    the fireworks

about the building rattling
the tin roofs.
Only the stars in my mind

swim.  I leave the temple
for the dusty street.  I
leave with you but

you’re without me.