I draw contour lines and color fields Let them fill in like growth rings The way I imagine the Landscape of a poem and make A poem-map, compass rose Pointing inward and out.
From toothbrush to bedtime story is The map of a lucky child’s day The map of “Smoke Maker” has Six directions, a veil and a blindfold…
Saffron page after saffron Page of projections Territories common and rugged As stones foliate and fade
I lay pins on the new Map of the new garden: A pin for sun A pin for grapes A pin for lilacs A pin for ladybugs
You Are Here
The map of my garden On this private meridian Has a pavilion with cushions A fountain with peacock-green tiles A path from one to the other
Three pins for honeysuckle and pleasure I am here at the intersection of Here and Now
Where golden rose and jasmine Replace the noxious Weeds of disturbed places Where clarity of sky Prevents its falling.
— Esther Kamkar