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The form of the poem subsided, it enters another poem.
A witness was found for the markings inscribed upside-down.
It might have been a celebration, so strong the presence
of the poem. The sky sinks slowly inside the past.
From The Red Gaze. Copyright © 2005 by Barbara Guest. Courtesy of Wesleyan University Press
Someone has remembered to dry the dishes; they have taken the accident out of the stove. Afterward lilies for supper; there the lines in front of the window are rubbed on the table of stone The paper flies up then down as the wind repeats.
Each artist embarks on a personal search.
An artist may take introspective refreshment from green.
Or so they say in Barcelona when air is dry.
In our country it is a water sprinkler that hints, "rinsed green."
Colors often break themselves into separate hues
of noisetone. In a Barcelona cabaret when green is overtaken,
it is stirred into the mint color of drink.
The spirit is lifted among primary colors. Nine rows of color.
The future writ in white spaces.
Once more riding down to Venice on borrowed horses,
the air free of misdemeanor, at rest in the inns of our fathers.
Once again whiteness like the white chandelier.
Echoes of other poems...