By Julia Guez
A cistern full of asters,
notes from the split–risk ward
above the lindens tops of poplars wave
in the long light, an agitation of birds.
What they fever after, I have fevered after—
in tight swaths—circling the only one who makes
all the seasons more beautiful than they really are.
Coming now to the place where no word is
apt, parting.
Wendy Videlock, Chaco Canyon, photograph
