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“If it is the last thing I do…”

If it is the last thing I do, I’ll command you to be amazed. Seas rolling

onto the shore, dried to salt. The dust of growing gorges. The eclipse.

Fields of pines—no, full coasts—caught flame. Nebulae, dead,

their starred knots unknotted, dispersed and flayed into the dark. Blurs

of mackerel skies, horse-shaped clouds. The courses

set into motion by each loss of life. The persistence of gravity.

from ArrowFind more by Sumita Chakraborty at the library

Copyright © 2020 Sumita Chakraborty
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Alice James Books.

Published in Poems Sumita Chakraborty

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

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