Lynn Powers © 2006 All Rights Reserved
We wake in scenes that tell us what we dreamed. Like Pilon’s warm gisants, my head turned toward yours as if to close a space; your pulse oddly restored in a sculptor’s block. Nude and appointed to reflect a light, to make a chapel out of earth’s casualties. And then, inevitable as the breath we have to take, the choice we’re granted in this early hour — the brackish call of migratory waterfowl, or art’s stony appeal: doomed, yet attached, in a docket of holy days.
Pilon is a French sculptor. A gisant is a nude corpse that an artist would sculpt as an effigy for a tomb.
M. B. McLatchey’s poems have been published in the American Poetry Journal, the National Poetry Review, Shenandoah, the Southern Poetry Review, the Anthology of New England Writers, Grain (Canadian), and Willow Springs. Her recent awards include the Annie Finch Prize for Poetry and the Vachel Lindsay Poetry Award.
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