Lavender sky late evening maples. No wind the river a reflection of the sky,
but moving. Thump of bass from some kid's pumped-up truck. Light of late
summer, lavender, no, green. The sky by convention is blue; in Viet Nam the
word for blue is the same as the word for green: xanh. You just have to
know. You know. You do know. Fruit ripens, the sky hangs above us its
radiance entirely its own, entirely ours. I am slicing the mango open: qua
xoai, the first syllable spoken with a rising then falling tone, the second
with a falling tone. Sweet the light sweet juice.
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Joseph Duemer
School of Liberal Arts, 5750
Clarkson University
Potsdam NY 13699
315.268.3967
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