After TM Davy’s Candela (Afterimage Golden)
The impending light
pushes out from
an unstable center.
It tries to convert
flux into stasis. I
watch it from my
indolent perch
on the couch. If it
pushes too hard
we will capsize.
I prefer to regard
it from across
the room, letting
it guide me without
burning a hole in my sight.
Blue is not forgotten.
Red reigns next to it
conquering yellow which
quivers under the bench
in the waiting room, hiding
from the consequence of
green. Forgive me for being
white. I don’t understand
the nature of color. I paint
myself with stripes to clarify
my intentions. Every once
in a while orange bleeds
from the tip of my pen
into my pupil and my purple
eye sees the sun running
to the end of the world.
Sally Van Doren is the author of three poetry collections, Possessive, (LSU Press 2012) Sex at Noon Taxes (2008) which received the Walt Whitman Award from the Academy of American Poets, and the forthcoming, Promise. Her ongoing poem, The Sense Series, served as the text for a multi-media performance at the Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis. She teaches at the 92nd Street Y in New York City and is a curator for the St. Louis Poetry Center. http://www.sallyvandoren.com