Summer 1992 • Vol. XIV No. 3 PoetryJuly 1, 1992 |

You Must Love

You must love the land when you leave to build your house on the sea Love what's lost the mango tree burning in the garden the curious noose of the familiar coat of arms Love the ball turning strong, spinning in a dark far away land, Love the tongue you'll never again speak that wrapped you and bled you and dried up some every day on the other side of the sea.

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece

Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.

Read More


Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.


With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.