Chanté Poem by Don Pearson

(For Chanté Mathurin)

The day I met Chanté,
The rain glistened in the road
With oil-shining rainbows
On the water.

Chanté’s hair held a flower
And ringlets against the light,
Against the mirrored wall.
She brightened the room,
Reflecting her eyes on the world,
Driving off the rain
And opening the sun.

As the stars rose,
She sang me the flower
And set it in a crystal
For my memory.

November 2001.