by Jesse Holth
Letter from Distant Star to the Earth
—a Cento, after André Breton
It is I who used to draw you as a child,
Just as each day, with its myriad lowered eyelids,
In the unique oblique light. It is I who burned,
All that is blinding in the world, dynamited,
Receding. Ancient handiwork that might contain
The eggs of storms, the superb fossils, lying
By the road that seeks itself. It is I who
Streams forth, so that your furrows warble
To those deep caves, as the hand is laid.
The rib of a coffer, I give it you because
It’s you, more than all the rest. It is I
Who might smile, when finding you
Once more.
—from the poem “Morning Star” (responding to the work of artist Joan Miró, “Constellations”)
JESSE HOLTH is a writer, editor, and poet living in Lekwungen territory. Her poems have appeared in Room, Grain, CV2, Arc, Canthius, and other publications. She previously served as Assistant Poetry Editor at The Tishman Review and Editor-in-Residence at The Ex-Puritan. She is currently working on two full-length collections.
Letter from Distant Star to the Earth was edited by Conyer Clayton. It can be found in Augur Magazine Issue 8.1.
