You come as close as the skin on my face, As if you were a sure enough wind for me to walk into. In woodgrain on a doorframe of a door I walk out of You wander and I wander with you. With luciferin, luciferase and oxygen you light the way. A mid-summer's late evening scatters you so That by midnight all of the stars that surround us By morning by cresting by curving by blazing, You are light that has passed through my eyes. I see you in profile as if sharpened and stenciled Examining creases in the palm of my hand. Exchanging places in ground fog with black flares. What is this translucence you've dropped between us, When will a sure enough wind arrive to blow this curtain aside?
DARA WIER'S books include Remnants of Hannah (Wave Books, 2006) and Reverse Rapture (Verse Press, 2005), a book-length poem in nine-line stanzas in nine-stanza pieces. Other recent books are Hat On a Pond (Verse Press, 2002) and Voyages in English (Carnegie Mellon, 2001).
|Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback|
|Title Annotation:||nine poems|
|Publication:||The American Poetry Review|
|Date:||Mar 1, 2007|
|Previous Article:||Afternoon in the Undercurrents.|
|Next Article:||God's Grief.|