The Ear of the SkinkAuthor(s): David FrancisSource: The Iowa Review, Vol. 32, No. 1 (Spring, 2002), p. 175Published by: University of IowaStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20155085 .

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DAVID FRANCIS

The Ear of the Skink

Early morning, I grab a skink 175

by the shoulder and hold it,

tail intact. Its skin flushes blue,

spreading the rash of my touch

scale to scale, a lukewarm itch

that leaves just two pockets uninflamed: its ears.

Vision in this box-canyon is hard enough (the cliffs

rising beside the peripheral eye like blinders) but the ear,

even flat against the skull,

quivers when leaves fall.

This skink heard me sleeping, heard my hand gather and reach

through the air. But in such

wide shade, its race slowed

to the pace of its ground-cold blood.

The heat in my palm stirs it now:

it looks at me, angle after angle,

listening to more voices than I know

I have, my heart,

the longer I hold it.

This content downloaded from 62.122.73.17 on Thu, 12 Jun 2014 23:15:23 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions