| Maybe the stars were crossed
the night winded
or generalized uncertainties |
| At the hem of twilight she
has flung the carrot tops soft arms & elbows mustered everything changing Honey put your dark side on & grease the road with muddied orchard light O lowly amber shell of duck |
| & let there be cattle of
various colors as I was
always seeing in that time a chewed grove of trees. She thinks fools names appear in public places she thinks you can't cut your losses she's rather stoic & big boned she thinks they left her because she wanted to be alone she thinks she has to keep moving because she isn't lost yet she thinks stunning patterns divide behind the eyes of the disinherited she says hey kids we might have water victory at sea great splashes the crops are saved maybe it was the slant of the sun on something amber over her shoulder someone is humming someone is asking what color her eyes are dreams of accomplishment where are all the French women poets! Last night she introduced someone to their own lover & now this view |
©1998 by Maureen Owen