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Haystack at sunset near Giverny - poem
Literary Review, Fall, 1993 by Tom Hansen
An hour ago the slant light at Giverny articulated the stubble of wheat - each separate stalk robed in an aura that eased it out of the chthonic dark, into a flood tide of light.
But now (this hour, now) this minute, sunset lingers - then surrenders ... The dying light: so numinous it blesses what it touches. A field begins to quiver, then gives over to its other.
A sea of wheat (slow rise, slow tumble) laps the fogbound shore, where trees and houses melt and run together like wet paint. A shape of hay: so huge it sinks the shipwrecked sun.
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COPYRIGHT 1993 Fairleigh Dickinson University
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group
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