Renga Fragments

Josely Vianna Baptista

The day a sun 

of metallic filaments 

No loose thread 

(lonely steps) 

or sun fray 

over the curb 


The brittle brilliance 

of ochres and siennas 

on your face as it turns away (wind 

whirling, dry as desert) 

without looking back. 




Matrices, ashes, from black 

to gray. Shining in the pitch dark, (Someone far away) your sleepless night. In the trash 

a fish loses its scales 

— (in the soot) yesterday’s papers. 

nightblack and silver, the rotten stains — 

seeing the sun over clouds 

            (seeing the sun over clouds.) 


Baptista, Josely Vianna. “Renga Fragments”. Translated by Rebecca Kosick

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