Lawrence Di Stefano
—
Relapsing Green
Like sadness, most days of the year,
can go unnoticed,
the dry field outside
wants to hide too,
wants to be alone,
wants to not communicate,
wants to ponder a little longer,
the wind,
and keep its secret for once
until it cannot, until it rains,
and perhaps,
where its blurred plain fills the window,
turn green
again—
cloud shadow breaking open
with little birds
flipping and folding
over its color—
so green and seldom so, we have to stop
just to look
and take in its honest intensity—
how it says, with a green flush,
that it’d rather make demands,
or better yet, just sing them for once
(you know lovers meet in fields like this)
I don’t know how to be any more quiet.
Without you, there is only field.
Lawrence Di Stefano’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Columbia Journal, RHINO, Southern Humanities Review, Sugar House Review, and Santa Clara Review, among other journals. He holds an MFA in poetry from San Diego State University and is Co-editor of poetry at The Los Angeles Review. He is currently working on his debut chapbook. www.lawrencedistefano.com
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