Rain Forest, St. Lucia
for Mary Lynn
And so the rain forest dreamed one day we entered,
one dapple of a day we passed in a flicker
through its pelt of limbs and leaves stitched and crossed,
a thicket island-wide aswarm with whispers
from a thousand years, a million, an epoch.
The deeper in, the more gargantuan the wood,
the more diminished we, staggering through mire
mined with slick, ankle-wrenching roots,
or caged in bamboo stands tilting over us,
jeans soaked with broadleaf plantains’ drip and slap.
Each flick of the machete parted another tangle of vines.
Giant ferns spread their fronds burst after burst,
and dry, segmented trunks raised their serrated crowns.
The light I followed, ringed by the forest’s darkening green iris,
was always a step ahead. Your blonde head gathered brightness
that seeped through the canopy, your shadow would bend
over leaves as if poems were written on them. As if?
You turn one over. You are reading it now.
ROBERT BENSEN’s poetry has been published in seven collections, most recently in What Lightning Spoke: New and Selected Poems. Read more.