The mid-point of the week is cause enough to celebrate, and we do just that here at Press 53 by sharing great poetry with you. This week, the spotlight’s on Deema Shehabi and her poem “Light in the Orchard,” taken from her collection, Thirteen Departures from the Moon.
Light in the Orchard
The black crows don’t rise frequently from yellow fields
in sunset anymore though the sentiment does—you see
the earth as a trammeled garment beneath your feet and
the blue, teeth-marked cavity of water and sky circling around,
blue on copper, blue-green, green-auburn, and although
you wish to repent and say: no country is worth fighting
for—the rain light will suddenly riffle through the breeze
until finally you spot the swans bristling on the pond,
blood-colored clouds flaring in their black eyes,
and then away one last time to the orange grove,
where birds plight in your stall.