Point of View

salt marsh fog

lubec, maine

Point of View

 

Shadow is the queen of color

                    St. Augustine

Consider everything

she didn't

have to bend to

to tend to:

indian pipe, lupine,

blue vervain, mint,

bleeding heart, columbine,

morning glory, phlox

every living/dying

thing beside/beneath

her and pressed

to the pattern

of her tipped hip

bone that on some days

is the shape of the gone cold

scythe blade kept

dangerous concave up

against the gunwales

of the dory on the second

floor of woodshed

attic or scrapes

made by simply getting by day

after day of making

the same kind

of bread or pie

time after time

and cranberry for some

variety or what-

all bog fruit.  Eye

to eye with every blossom

on the lawn, a rug

that doesn't

need sweeping (that sleeping

one-eye open wild

feline beneath that dun 

gunwale) and if the wind's up

they all bow pliant

to her, august as she is

diadem stems of unctuous  

hair lifted from her cheek.