Old Man Goes South Again Alone

O parakeets & avocets. O immortelles
& ibis, scarlet under that stunning sun,
deliciously & tired I come
toward you in orbit, Trinidad! – albeit without the one

I would bring with me to those isles & seas,
leaving her airborne westward thro’ great snows
whilst I lapse on your beaches
sandy with dancing, dark moist eyes among my toes.

John Berryman

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