After Shadows and Silence
whose eyes are the first espresso after customs
whose loins are stacks of firewood in winter
the one whose back is Guernica as it hung in exile
whose mind is an advancing hurricane
whose fingertips are the marimbas of Veracruz
whose tongue is a robe of silk crêpe de chine
the one whose spleen is Paris
whose ears are shiitake mushrooms in hoisin sauce
whose breath is autumn in Appalachia
whose toes are the Moonlight Sonata
whose chest is Vesuvius across the bay
whose shoulders are the rumor of armistice
whose gaze cascades the canyon between us
the one whose voice is perdition
©2005 Katherine Williams
Blazons are made of extravagant praise of the beloved’s body. “Song of Solomon” is a familiar blazon from the Holy Bible. André Breton’s famous blazon, “Free Union,” is a Surrealist masterpiece, and Shakespeare’s satirical “Sonnet 130” is the cleverest love poem I’ve ever read. This blazon saunters in looking like a sonnet, and turns into a psalm just before it leaves.
The author gratefully acknowledges publication of “After Shadows and Silence” in Blue Arc West: An Anthology of California Poets, Paul Suntup, Dima Hilal, and Mindy Nettifee, Eds. Huntington Beach, CA: Tebot Bach (2006)
