The slant of light that shapes
this unfinished room looks structural.
Some celestial architect
has poured this molten form to show
that brightening local color
can toughen the built environment
to withstand the dolor that creeps
into languorous afternoons
when we feel our lives waning.
The window flaunts raw colors:
a blue car, a silver car, swaths
of brown shingle, pale clapboard,
spangle of tree, a clef of wires,
elongation of summer sky.
But in this dusty room two shades
of beige, bold and dull, intersect.
The slant of light imposes
geometry so strict we’re compelled
to stand up straight enough to face
a fully illuminated absence
from which we’ve everything to fear.
Author Bio:
William Doreski lives in Peterborough, New Hampshire. He has published three critical studies and several collections of poetry. His work has appeared in many journals. He has taught writing and literature at Emerson, Goddard, Boston University, and Keene State College. His new poetry collection is A Black River, A Dark Fall.
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