Stan Engelke (September 1965—May 1983)
It's obvious that this objection occupies space.
Look at its lavender-blue petals, its rose-bordered
Ferns, the cut stems of its yellow blossoms filling
The altar, covering the bier.
And it's evident that this [...]
The only function of the red-cupped fruit
Hanging from the red stem of the sassafras
Is to reveal the same shiny blue orb of berry
Existing in me.
The only purpose of the row of hemlocks blowing
On the rocky ridge is to give form to the crossed lines [...]
As if his eye had no boundaries, at night
All the heavens are visible there. The stars drift
And hesitate inside that sphere like white seeds
Sinking in a still, dark lake. Spirals of brilliance,
They float silently and slowly deeper and deeper