by Susan Ayres
A cento in homage to Pablo Neruda
Between lips and lips there are cities
related through a thousand years
and a lurch of objects calling without answers,
navigating on a water of origin and ash.
You keep watch over the sea like a thief.
Slow play of lights, solitary bell.
The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish
and the walls have a sad crocodile color.
My various faces press themselves in and lock
the petrified plant, the inflexible garland.
I greet it with a doubtful laugh.
Who ever made a ritual of cinders?
*Note: This cento is made up of lines gathered from Neruda: Selected Poems (English and Spanish Edition) edited by Anthony Kerrigan and Nathaniel Tarn.
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Susan Ayres writes and teaches in Fort Worth, Texas. Her poems have been published in descant, Kalliope, Texas Review, Borderlands, and other journals.