poem index

Beyond the Pane

Greg Hewett

The frescoed cloister is closed.
No echo of omniscience 
escapes to wind or metaphor.
A cottage holds three bowls, 
earthen and chipped, on a table 
made of planks smoothed by the surf. 
One holds buttermilk;
another, tomatoes pale as moons;
the third, eggs the color of sand.
On the sill you would place a globe
of ivory roses to echo
the dolphin skull beyond the pane,
and think how sonorous, how bold,
this science of solitude.

From darkacre by Greg Hewett. Copyright © 2010 by Greg Hewett. Used by permission of Coffee House Press: www.coffeehousepress.org.

Greg Hewett

by this poet

poem

It’s obvious
beauty is a postage stamp,
a composed self-portrait
of Frida Kahlo
wearing a simple necklace,
an image chosen by the USPS
not because it was like one she painted
for Trotsky. Of course
beauty could not include
imagery of hammer and sickle
or