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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=560931" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Learning to Play Coltrane</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">She thought it was green, not<br>the emerald green of Indian summer<br>but a green like a darkening plain, <br>or the shadow rivers cast.<br>She thought it was light, a glint<br>or a warning, the shine <br>at the papery edge <br>of storm clouds. The way<br>a voice rising and falling becomes<br>a premonition, a dampness <br>at the back of her neck. Or maybe <br>it was more of an imprint, <br>a memory of sound, some afternoon <br>after the circus has left town <br>and all that remains is a field<br>strewn with garbage, a music<br>of pasted stars and ruin.<br>And she thought of a color <br>like that, mud-green, the green<br>of a small sadness, shapeless<br>as the wind itself. And for a moment<br>she owned everything inside it, <br>the light, the field, the wind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">						—for Adrian</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>First published in American Poetry Review.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Silvia+Curbelo">Silvia Curbelo</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=560931" data-title="Learning to Play Coltrane de Silvia Curbelo" data-description="She thought it was green, not
the emerald green of Indian summer
but a green like a darkening plain, 
or the shadow rivers cast.
She thought it was light, a glint
or a warning, the shine 
at the papery edge 
of storm clouds. The way
a voice rising..."></div>
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