In The and The, and: Damsels
Merrill Gilfillan
84 MERRILL GILFILLAN IN THE AND That pretty-in-all-six-senses music— they make it by rubbing their legs together you know: Smoke and flame from Hollywood thrillers, agents smash Carolingian towns shattering glass, houses, flocks, fruit carts hens exploding, pedestrians thrown high in the air, never seen again: In name of old white beans dusty Dove Creek size kestrel eggs, hatch! plump as pullets, dressed warm with rosemary, oil: For person who has everything/ nothing—no middle ground to clear— And redtail fat above, coseismal on box elder, so near we smell her ruffled nether thatch— ooo la la— Eso es vivir. 85 DAMSELS By second day registered damselflies resting pines just overhead, felt many eyes, turned slowly our chairs— demoiselles an utter stillness every other cranny or twig, tree, copper-carmine, blanched lapis, tails hiked cool air. when wind quickened, full armada dropped pure consensus perch tiptoe buds sage a foot above below, shift unanimous leaves gust— then up, moments later, back pines, very mind’s amino sky. The lacquer blue down investigate my watch. Touch hair— what can weigh? Moment day. To meet earth slightly. Needlepoint toes. What hummingbirds think? Inca piccolos. ...
Colorado Review