Here's a girl from a dangerous town
                She crops her dark hair short
        so that less of her has to frown
                when someine gets hurt.

        She folds her memories like a parachute.
                Dropped, she collects the peat
        and cooks her veggies at home: they shoot
                here where they eat.

        Ah, there's more sky in these parts than, say,
                ground. Hence her voice's pitch,
        and her stare stains your retina like a gray
                bulb when you switch

        hemispheres, and her knee-length quilt
                skirt's cut to catch the squal,
        I dream of her either loved or killed
                because the town's too small.

Added: Mar 9 2005 | Viewed: 751 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Joseph Brodsky
Poem: Belfast Tune

There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Belfast Tune, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Joseph Brodsky with others on the Poetry Connection poetry forum!