Margins
       

Tonight, I belong to a series I should call "Open."
Outside, a hill articulates delicately.
A white petunia and roofline show me different scales of intimacy.
I am reminded by what Donald Judd said of art:
Reality is simply more capacious than any order it holds.
Also, what my son said when he saw Judd's sculpture:
What is this supposed to be?
I returned late from the abbey,
the incense-musk in my sleeves.
(Everything retains characteristics of its previous environment.)
But now I look for a more tangible space, like some thorny brush.
I could stare into.

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Copyright © 2015 Kelly Moffett All rights reserved
from A Thousand Wings
Salmon Poetry
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission