Georgia O'Keeffe I

by Samantha Long

 

By ninety-six she had left

The Abiquiu House, bound

For quiet in Santa Fe, going

Blind with eyes blue-gray, low

Sun setting over Miss O’Keeffe

And her silver combs. Caretaker

Must braid her long hair

And wind it into a bun at the nape

Of her neck set still by the silver

Combs, three to secure her hair

And two expensive ones, pretty

Behind her ears she says to keep her

Hair, gray-brown, from covering

Her already blind eyes. They were

Just for show, how momentous

A transliterator, these combs.

Her heart sang ninety-eight years

In sweeping color, ram’s skull

Steadfast in a desert sea

Of silver

To settle in a house set small

Against the blue mountains

Behind it, eyes misty blue, hair

So gray against the stone walls

It was also silver-blue,

Blue, blue.

 





back to University & College Poetry Prizes