∞
Sun Spots
The shredded light my straw
hat shed was like grains of
wheat falling on my shoulders
from the crown’s stout silo.
I was a fruit ripening in
semitropical heat. Now spots,
like seeds inside, implode,
grow their own geography,
a chain of Caribbean islands
surface, link over my chest,
tattoo for the sun’s expeditions.
One, the size of a shilling, blood
money spent for a golden tan,
the regal feel of its glow, the silky
sensation, summer is my skin.
∞
Nancy Anne Miller is a Bermudian poet with eight poetry collections. Tide Tables (Kelsay Books, 2019) is her latest. She has been published internationally in journals such as Edinburgh Review, Poetry Ireland Review, Salzburg Review, Agenda, Stand, The Fiddlehead, The Caribbean Writer. She is a MacDowell Fellow and Bermuda Arts Council Grant recipient.