Judith Skillman
And not to remember too much
The cobblestone streets, parrots talking in shade,
a breeze off the ocean, bougainvillea vining trellises.
Los arcos—three rocks where whales breach.
Frigate birds, pelicans, and swifts buzz the pool,
coming in as if to land on the equipoise of water,
to stun the body back from its reliquary of secrets.
Nothing in that slow-motion film can be erased,
unstuck from the spiral kingdom of place.
The old injury carries its sting, a scorpion poised
above scar tissue, a boa holding the shroud of amnesia.
Judith Skillman is is the author of Premise of Light (Tebot Bach, 2018). Her poems have appeared in Shenandoah, Seneca Review, Cimarron Review, Zyzzyva, and other journals. She is the recipient of grants from Artist Trust and the Academy of American Poets. She is a faculty member at Richard Hugo House in Seattle, Washington.
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