Poem: "Blue Boa" by Pamela Harrison
Blue Boa
All morning as I grade papers, the pair of bananaquits nesting in the bougainvillea’s latticed leaves squabble and squawk. Sudden quiet, then a knock on the kitchen door announces Jomo, the cinnamon bark salesman who wraps his wares in a dusty towel. We bargain, I buy enough for the year. Jomo lingers shyly, then begs to say we “have a Serpent.” (Not a snake. The snake was that green lover’s knot we found sleeping in the corner of our sunny room.) Jomo says, “It is a Serpent. A Serpent from the Garden. It is not shy. It will not go away.” Guiding me round to our own front door, Jomo points to a five-foot boa lounging like a pasha in the scarlet bower. I regard the bulges in its sleepy length: two hearts snug in the welcome of its love. From Glory Bush and Green Banana (Turning Point, 2017) |
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Pamela Harrison reads Blue Boa |