Joan Stuart Ross © 2005 All Rights Reserved
Clear window, not quite disassembled,
blue sash, clean blue casement.
It isn’t spring outside the window,
it is present tense:
leaded glass that frames
confinement, daylight absorbing bright air,
scent of jasmine, almost spring, and no
sound louder than this blue sash
waiting carefully for weather,
something like a path with shadow,
path with fog or mist: blue air unfurling,
weaving path to plot to street: one/two/three
narrow houses scripturing light,
the blue window (outside) bound by
circumference, irregular dark sky above
the genitive noun of the house,
fake sky drunk with shadow,
falling (Hopper-like) into the street.
I rearrange the casement to repeat
the word “jasmine” (jasmine)
which I see nowhere
blooming in the present tense.
Co-editor of Ekphrasis, Carol Frith, has had work in Willow Review, Comstock, Chariton, Cutbank, MacGuffin, Porcupine, Asheville, & others. She has chapbooks from Bacchae Press, Medicinal Purposes, and Palanquin Press and received a “Special Mention” in the 2003 Pushcart Anthology.
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