blue skies

Original light broke apart,
the Gnostics say,
when time began,
singular radiance
fractioned into form
— an easy theory

in early summer,
when that first performance
seems repeated daily.
Though wouldn’t it mean
each fracturing took us

from heaven?
Not in this town,
not in June: harbor
and cloudbank, white houses’
endlessly broken planes,

of lilac shadows and whites
as blue as noon:
phrasebooks of day,
articulated most of all
in these roses,

in dynasties of bloom,
their easy idiom
a soundless compaction
of lip on lip. Their work,
these thick flowerheads?

sunlight, they interrupt
that movement just enough
to transfix in air, at eye level,
now: held still, and shattering,
which is the way with light:

the nearer it comes to whole.


copyright mark doty
all rights reserved
Labels: Chikanobu Toyohara, Kuniyoshi Utagawa, leon bakst, mark doty, paul scheurich, poetry, raoul dufy, voysey, willie nelson
5 Comments:
I like your blue period lotus!
Dufy, the Ballets Russes AND Voysey! Are you trying to kill me with breathtakingly gorgeousness design today!?!
:^)
well, perhaps it will please you to know that i can never now think of voysey without thinking of you
Well, true to form, my blog today will be about CFA Voysey, just for a change!
i'm on my way!
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hi, and thanks so much for stopping by. i spend all too much time thinking my own thoughts about this stuff, so please tell me yours. i thrive on the exchange!
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