You Say
You Say
Jen Grace Stewart
all your poems
have windows. It is too soon
to ask you to open them.
The trees in this poem
are golden, that minute
before everything starts
to give way, yellow scruff
at your heels, wading
through a quick beauty
like feeling your heart leap
on a hillroad when
the car takes it too fast.
At church, I take bread
and the wine. Through the windows
beyond the altar, blue swoons.
I donβt discern between
vision and longing, believe
I too could be as carefully read
as a poem, that attention itself
feels like love, that I might
take this, and not have to break.
Jen Grace Stewart
Poet & Teacher
Jen is the author of Madonna, Complex (2020, Poiema/Cascade). She teaches at the University of Colorado, Boulder.
Photography by Alexander Mass
Ekstasis Magazine