Tuesday, July 21, 2009

For Georgia O'Keefe

I want

to walk,

with you

on my Texas desert,

to stand near

you straight

as a Spanish Dagger,

to see your fingers

pick a bone bouquet

touching life

where I touch death

to hold a warm, white

pelvis up

to the glaring sun

and see

your red-blue worls

to feel you touch

my eyes as you touch canvas

to unfold

giant blooms.

~Pat Mora~

I've loved that poem since the 7th grade. I think it's stunning and I can hear it in my head.