A Poem by Pansy Maurer-Alvarez
RAPTURE STRIPPED OF CONFETTI
I like this Byzantine red collision that
ruins my nightly
gales, my high seas It’s a signature of myself
It flows from a birthplace, a horoscope
increasingly major
An imagined Roman afternoon green of sound
A universe inverted where strangers compose
a race –
they beckon to me disguised as doves
combing their feathers
My orientation takes a turn and urges
daybreak
I enter the celebration of the red cloth,
the poem’s brim
A tympani roll of thunder surprises
winter’s unclasping
The arrival of snow shivers and splashes
thick
A pinch of color is a slippery detail
The rest is a white emphasis modified by
sparse genuine willing
Sensuousness is a bountiful, fluent
perception –
the palest
infancy, a figurative bell somewhere ragged
