Description
Dreaming of Lemon Trees: Selected Poems
by Francis DiClemente
$19.99, Full-length, paper
978-1-64662-076-0
2019
- Author photo credit: Steve Sartori
- About the author:
- Excerpts from the collection:
A vanilla ice cream conecovered with sprinkles of dirt,a handful tossed by small, grimy handsacross a chain-link fence.A blond child’s whine—flat, constant and eerily melodic.The girl then turning away,screaming upstairs to her mother,sound asleep in the mid-August heat,the lime-green curtains fluttering in thesecond-story window of the adjacent brick building.The child just standing there, scraping off the gritand licking the melting residuetrickling down her forearm.
Sprawled out on my mother’s bed,I hear chunks of ice falling from the roof,and a city snowplow rushing past our house.I tilt my neck to glimpse at the wooden crucifixperched above my mother’s head,and feel my putting-green hair andsurgical scar meandering from ear to ear.I then pester her with a flurry of questions,diverting her attention from a Danielle Steel book.She delivers no rebuke, though,but merely clasps her nut-brown rosary beads,and brushes them gingerlyagainst the disfigurement.
I dream of wordsI strive to recaptureWhen I awaken in the morning.I dream of stories with endings unknown,Vibrant scenes imagined in my sleep—A Degas ballerina alone in her dressing room,A wagon train backlit on the horizon,A hummingbird dancing on the windowsill,And a lemon tree in the church courtyard in mid-afternoon.Wherever I go in my dreams,The air is balmy and sunlight abundant.Trees sway and the scent of evergreen finds its way to my nose.I dream because when this tired body hits the mattress,It relaxes, then releases and gives up its earthly weight.My eyes close and I sink to the deep recesses of my mind,Setting the subconscious free.
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