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Post by MoonyLuna on Jan 21, 2009 12:03:10 GMT -5
Annunciation: Eve to Ave The wings behind the man I never saw. But often, afterward, I dreamed his lips, Remembered the slight angle of his hips, His feet among the tulips and the straw.
I liked the way his voice deepened as he called. As for the words, I liked the showmanship With which he spoke them. Behind him, distant ships Went still; the water was smooth as his jaw—
And when I learned that he was not a man— Bullwhip, horsewhip, unzip, I could have crawled Through thorn and bee, the thick of hive, rosehip, Courtship, lordship, gossip and lavender. (But I was quiet as a doll, quiet As eagerness, that astonished, dutiful fall.)
Annunciation (from the grass beneath them) how many moments did it hover before we felt it was like nothing else, it was not bird light as a mosquito, the aroma of walnut husks while the girl's knees pressed into us every spear of us rising, sunlit & coarse the wild bees murmuring through what did you feel when it was almost upon us when even the shadows her chin made never touched but reached just past the crushed mint, the clover clustered between us how cool would you say it was still cool from the clouds how itchy the air the girl tilted & lurched & then we rose up to it, we held ourselves tight when it skimmed just the tips of our blades didn't you feel softened no, not even its flickering trembled
Copyright Mary Szybist
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Post by MoonyLuna on Jan 21, 2009 12:03:52 GMT -5
Featured Poet Mary Szybist
Mary Szybist is the author of Granted (Alice James Books, 2003), which was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award. She teaches at Lewis & Clark College in Portland, Oregon.
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