Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Poem: "Randall's Island"

Randall’s Island

On the brow of a lonely hill kneeling
I saw the brown heath growing there.
—Emily Brontë, “Loud without the wind was roaring”

As Emily, far away
from her flat home,

saw on the hill
a sign of home,

so, on this island
that is not the right island,

by this river that is
not the right river,

this artificial turf
is a sign of home.

This artificial turf
is my heath.

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