Looking Now at Pissaro

The heaviness of clouds with variations of grayish white
makes me want
to fly inside their bodies, kiss
the varying curves of lit shapes
and trace with my finger seeable stars.

I want morning to reveal itself slowly
so that I might hover near moments of opening
as shadows break into the faintest blue mid-air
and the longing for thunder to clap my chest
pierces me.

“Come, occupy my imaginings of lonely”, he says. “Of love.”

Your desire for heart.
My desire for flesh.
And while I attempt to hide in this winter sky,
the unadorned trees below, obscure nothing.
Tell me nothing about my need to devour you.

Finally, I careen downward from flight
to what appears green in distance and hit instead
cold, stiffened ground. The wild sounds
of crash disturb the passersby
and what splinters into pieces

calls out, “I am here,”
Save me.

---

Jennifer Pons
MFA Poet & Teacher

Jennifer Pons’ work has appeared in Across the Margin and Whale Road Review. 

Photography by Amy J. Lewis