"Blue Interior" by Molly Lamb Bobak

M. Travis Lane
From: Writing on the Wall, Beaverbrook Art Gallery, 2006. The All-Nighter's Radio (Guernica, 2010)

                                                      for Joe Sherman

Say that the crowding universe has come full blast
and burned my eyes. This is a sort of blindness:
old age scoured, split, spangled. Everywhere
the white air billows, splashes a pale surf,
blue where there are no shadows, now, and yellow
here and there, the earth world shoving up toward me.

Sharp edges, cornices of white: glass, snow, a table, all
remirror and reverberate a shout of joy.
I paint a meadow in a room; the meadow soars,
disintegrates. Solidities like rainbows float,
secure me, anchors in bright air.

And I grow frail. I will be dust, dew, nimbus.
Say of me: "She did not sink to darknesses.
She clambered into light."

Poem 1 | Poem 2 | Poem 3 | Poem 4 | Poem 5 | Poem 6 | Poem 7 | Poem 8 | Poem 9 | Poem 10 | Poem 11 | Poem 12 | Poem 13

M. Travis Lane's works copyright © to the author.