Lençóis Maranhenses - Chris Eller
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Terra incognita
-Tabor Flickinger
With white gloves on,
My mother, the librarian, took the aged
Volume from behind the archive's bars,
Elegant iron that keeps out the prying public.
She unfolded the brittle inserts,
Precious to find intact.
Nautical charts expanded at her touch,
Lovingly engraved in minute detail
So accurate and yet so fanciful
As monsters patrolled the seas
And well-delineated coasts faded
Into blankness beyond.
I longed to fill that terra incognita
But not too much
So some unnamed horizon
Would always remain.
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