Paranaguá

For Father de Carli

P

I am lost at sea, father please
remember me
in 1648 we drove our stakes into her soil
we built her from the untilled earth
shaping her with hands and mud and human toil
we toasted our coffea
we built her walls in pine
we rested to drink our chá mate as the slow tug of time drew us each out
as her paper, timber and hide is siphoned off by the sea
I became the father; a shepard to my brothers, shepards and sons
But now -
I have been called to heaven before my body is done

Do you see me my father?
untethered from my mother home
an Icarus on rainbow wing of latex tree
watch the bright petals wash against her shore
like flowers upon my funeral bones
I can see my country, her beauty laid before me as clear as my regret
I ask of you - do I appear this perfect yet?

I say now
all of it I would trade
for the feel of her soil in my hands,
for the coldest winter of my youth
Recalled under jequitiba shade
For Jose, as we laughed at him in the mornings - at his quaint cabaça,
the bomba poking at his sleepy eyes.
Does he watch the shores I wonder?
Or does he watch the skies?
They say that you know what is best.
I believe this,
For when you called me
you never told me the work you needed done was death.