ISSUE 26
Spring 2004

Lori Lord Masucci

 

This marks an author's first online publication Lori Lord Masucci has studied poetry under Lisa Coffman and Steve Sherrill. She is currently taking time to write poetry and have another child before returning to graduate studies. She believes that these two activities are intrinsically the same.
Okinawa, 1985


When people ask about the island, I say
my Okinawa was 48 inches
high—we went to a fish market,
but all I could see was a barrel
full of oysters that squirted at me.
These are half-lies—I cannot see
oysters in my memories, or a fish market, or
Okinawa. I only know I would always lose
my way in the botanical gardens.
The mongoose killed the habu, and I watched.
I ate something pink and sticky wrapped in leaves,
this was Hinamatsuri. I danced on a rooftop with paper fans.
Okinawa fades each year, until I am left with
only the smell of green tea and tatami mats.
 

 

 

Lori Lord Masucci: Poetry
Copyright © 2004 The Cortland Review Issue 26The Cortland Review