Barbara Guest
THE LUMINOUS
Patches of it
on the lettuce a geography
on trucks brilliant noises
on water
on the figure a disrobing
radiance like sweaters dumped
weightlifting there in the forest clumps,
striking at the underbrush, digging
past the clumsy curves
Skipping certain passages, taking off
the sweaters
that
fu
cone found its voice on the path
in the light after the sun came out
the postcard illuminates certain features in the face
the notebook lying on the windowsill,
the spindle back, the broken stem, all richer,
niceties tend to drop, also words like "many
loves" come forward like the surprises of white stars
and the boots step by amazingly on the dried rich clay.
