Amaranth
Eleanor (Poetry Editor)
Amaranth
Amaranth has three definitions:
I
It is a shade of red that smells of ham glazed with Southern hospitality.
the kind of dinner you dream of in the fields,
the kind a Southern belle fears will widen her waistline.
The color is equated with dusk, peach, white wicker
a line of brick, scarlet, fire,
makes you think of “Gone with the Wind”,
but the wind has already left us,
It is the color of skin with a backhand slap,
of blood congealing in dust.
It is the sound of blackbirds listening to the Aura Lee’s echo.
II
The locals have a grain amaranth.
mold it into statues of their gods
to feel a little closer to heaven when they eat it.
The skin of Cortez stands out here
even the sun doesn’t like it,
burns like goddamned Aztec fire.
He can’t smile without wincing.
The savage locals look at him like he’s some sort of omen
the same way sailors look at women,
say they’re bad luck on the sea.
Well then. Who’s unlucky on land?
He isn’t.
He outlaws amaranth,
tells the Aztecs in a language he thinks they know - blood.
But Hernán Cortez didn’t realize that blood waters amaranth just like rain.
III
Amaranth
They say it’s magical, ambrosia for the eyes, a boutonniere for the god of night life.
They say its leaves cure illness, fill the gardens of Olympus.
Amaranth
Its petals crying to weep and they can’t; they’re immortal.
It’s one of those ancient myths
one touch undoes the spell
And it drifts down as if on the River already.
This is amaranth.