Lot in La Florida

Lot in La Florida

Amelia Roché Hyde

A cup carved in the verry depe of the
Ocean overfloweth,
Its portents pushed towards thy
Only known home.
Deep unto deep, closer and closer thine
Opal pearls arrive—
Lap, lick, high tide coming for thee.

This is the Jordayne, in myne oppynion:
Sandy sparse soil,
Well smelling woode of
Pine and palm, milk and honey—
Orista-Land, great Chicora,
Al-Andalus anew,
A New World Zion.

“And Ribaut, lifting up his eyes,
Saw all the cuntrye good and grete
About the Jordayne,
The paradise of the LORD”
Where nothing lacketh

In hurricane’s holy name a Spanish ship sails
Veiled in palm leaves and coquina shells—
Old World ghost!
Offer up thy bloody cup and host—
Asturian soldier, slaughter
Thy Huguenot brother in the
Greatest and fayrest haven of the world.

“Behold, he will drink up a river of voyelence,
And not wonder:
And he trusteth that the Jordayne
May run into his mouth”
Yt is a straung thing

Out in the bowl, great cup—
A bright, meane biggnes—
Ye see specter ships of long ago,
Anchored deep and faire.
O sweet bygone sailor, conquistador!
Come, lie down thy weary head
On sand bar, oyster bed.

A leviathan in the verry depe of the
Ocean overcometh.
His portion thy
Matanzas massacre.
Deep unto deep, closer and closer thine
Apocalypse arrive,
Salt water coming for thee.

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Amelia Roché Hyde
Poet & Researcher

Amelia is a writer and historian. Her writing explores transtemporal connections between grand historic narratives and personal lived experiences. Currently based in New York City, Amelia has lived and worked in the American South and England.

Photography by Osmany Mederos