meanwhile a given fall sheer challis
in red waver as day goes
slant in vowels
said and tall-backed chairs
a walled opacity weak-windowed at
the hour of him pale and bluish under
all and wrapped in weeds the smell of
graves on him and thick water
the rest night-cleft torn that other
door a rift
where are the nouns she asked and all the words for clouds
then she turned toward the red division blurred as if chalked
—horizon marking muddled dusk
from footfall written
poem by Sharon Osmond
published at ars poetica
photo by Alan Grinberg via flickr
Robin Reagler 