The Mapmaker’s Daughter

                ANITA ENDREZZE

 

the geography of love is terra infirma

 

it is a paper boat

navigated by mates

with stars in their eyes

 

cartographers of the fiery unknown

 

it is the woman’s sure hand

at the helm of twilight, the salt

compass of her desire

 

the map of longing is at the edge of two distant bodies

 

it is the rain that launches thirst

it is the palm leaf floating on waters

far from shore

 

the secret passage into the interior

is in my intemperate estuary

 

the sweet and languorous flowering

is in the caliber of your hands

 

the circular motion of our journeying

is the radius of sky and sea, deep

territories we name

after ourselves

The Captain’s Son

                KATE MCDEVITT

 

you state that the geography of love is terra infirma

as if a fact as constant as the north star

a compass may betray but the stars can never lie

 

yet it is you who claims the helm in search

and you who would toss the petals of the flower overboard

 

before the mapmaker may sketch the secret ways

they must first be found by the ship

 

but a ship cannot be run alone

 

a ship comes ashore when the docks are unready in but one way

with men jumping out to pull at the ropes

secure the anchor safe and sure

 

once in, it sits in wait to depart

towards those lands uncharted and waters unexplored

 

every night the decks are swabbed

long-handled mops spread the water around

every morn the riggings are checked to be sure

that nothing came loose the night before

 

but when she sets sail once more

and the mates look to the maps as much as the stars

then it is not my hands which hold the flower

nor the seas which hold the waters

 

it is the tidal, never-changing rhythms of my heart

and that is what the discovered bodies will be named for