Glory

I quit, the early
afternoon, inside.

When image’s understood,
I can’t quietly say.

Upper leg muscles
may have left something—
is someone
certain of that?

A (p)articulated you, lifted,
sunflower sundress
by your loose screendoor,
it’s 1991.

Upstate generic fields yield
a rest: semi-present column
of gray, free in the dark
kaleidoscopic
movements, colluding;

now promised—my Pentateuch,
her lunacy, his arrest.

Petitioned. Their ‘oblivious’,
its avalanche, it’s inevitable.

Licorice leaves minute
our daily lunchtime rains.

Intruding in the quiet, in the
afternoon, poetic and quick.