Guest Poet

Dana, Her Eyes

I want to live in there
Where light is so calm and clear
The moon must have a hand in it;
Where all the locks in my head
Spring open like the jaw set in
The body's old belief that nothing
As beautiful as long-looking into her eyes
Would ever be its fate; where
Our house, somewhere in a clearing
Opens its rooms of unusual intimacy;
Where spirit-stuff, like the magic dust
Of stars, supercharges sex. Always
I want that oddball sensation, giddy,
Toppling, out of balance for a moment,
Then out of pain for the rest of my life.

---Robert McDowell

Copyright © Robert McDowell 2007 All Rights Reserved

from On Foot, in Flames