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Enheduanna by Lyn Lifshin

depoetry
June 8, 2015

 

The first poet whose
name we know, there
under palm leaves
with her tablet of
lapis lazuli, deep as
her eyes. A true woman
in the shade of the
holy potash plant,
moving like a young
cat. The goddess
of writing, learning,
the harvest. "My king,"
she almost sang,
"something has been
created that no one has
created before." The
light must have had a
tangerine cast to it,
ribbons of sun braiding
with the onyx hair
of Enheduanna, a
shrine in a pure place


Read more of Lyn Lifshin's poems in the Spring 2015 edition of the Delaware Poetry Review.