––starting with a line by Sappho
Who is the one with violets in her lap?
After the earth shook, she rang the bell
to warn the town to run. The women who sell
wool, their skeins spread out like garlands of tulips
and lilies, fled, but what about their shawls,
caps and gloves piled in the beds of trucks?
The sea grabbed boats of fishermen like a shark,
twisted roofs and furniture, churches and schools
in its wild walls. The rage complete, it displaced
their planks onto black sand, into forests and streets.
Violet is the light of mourning, luz divina,
luz of healing, luz of valor for Martina.
She is the one with violets; she knits wreaths
for the silt of the Río Maule and shredded lace.