WHILE DAVID STARKEY READS
Last night's half moon drew itself
across the pond of the sky.
My camera trapped moving stars
combusting above the heads of poets.
A murmuration of poets genuflected
their gaze averted from the weight
of a writhing crucifix in the nave.
How the eye enters into it:
The poet's words throw light,
a halo framed by oak and toyon
and the tide pull of the sky.
Last night's half moon
rowed itself across the sky.
My camera obscura
snared a faint trail of stars
as David read his poems
of earlier fires.
Distant trickle of a fountain,
a murmur of poets and a lone crow
warbling in the clear bell of the sky.
9/2009 La Casa de Maria, Santa Barbara
rev. 7/13
