Twilight

Phi Kappa Phi Forum, Summer 2003 by Moody, Mark

persiste the bolivian poet reads the fall of the evening persists an ocher and lavender language distilled from desert evenings crepusculo echoes a sensuous bird in the smoky wood rafters confundio I have confused you with the twilight the translator says outside a stubborn glow slowly hauled out of the sky leaving the cool air a sheen like the skin of grape crepusculo acoustic guitar on the radio the road a seam a whisper over curving thighs a sudden veer escape of a fortunate doe persiste the drowsy town its dreaming tourists this cheap hotel its worn promises confundio blue light in the windows abandoned moon calling across an empty field crepusculo sky of things and shadows stars on your tongue cielo de duendes swallow me

MARK MOODY

Inspired by the poem "Alquien Tendra Que Llamarse Crepusculo" by Jaime Saenz ("Someone Must be Called Twilight" translated by Forrest Gander).

Mark Moody began writing in 1998 in response to his first cancer diagnosis. He has participated in the Napa Valley Writers' Conference for the last four years, and his poems have appeared in A&U Magazine, The James White Review, and online in Bent (www.bentvoices.org). He lives in Baltimore.