Copihue Poetry

Kingdom of the Americas Sonnets:

The Lake Speaks

What do I do when a king bids
his brother be drowned in my depths?
I take all, knowing the giver
is transformed by acceptance. Words
true heir echo on my surface.
Splashes. Then, I settle. Blood swirls
cursive truths: there are no kings here
but droplets that fill deep craters.

See the blue beetle I reflect
pull free of its chitin body.
Send me your wounded men, send me
rifles, skipping stones or gold chests.
Every leader is welcome here
that I rise and the soil be blessed.

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from banana [ ], winner of the 2021 AWP Donald Hall Prize for Poetry