Once, at sea in the Caribbean, I came from below and stepped out
on deck into a world of gloriously saturated amethyst.
—San Juan, 1960
My ship on swells at bobbingdusk
on seas of lavenderglass,
sky’s hue too, a rippleless
moving mass of liquid glass
as if a sheet of blown cellophane
as if, as if
—just drink, my eyes insist.
I am indistinct and boundless
in this risingfalling amethyst