Lisa Russ Spaar
June 2005

Sky


Could I live without sky, its vasty tease of divinity
grouting the guy wires, kudzu-pillared phone poles,
piled scoops of cloud?

                                    Painful blue,
is it true all forms of Love
are autobiographical, even you—
tattooed tonight by the ballpark’s inflorescence—

crack of bats and the milky floodlights,
the abrupt detonations of the crowd
making a small, earthly opera on the horizon?

My heart is on fire with your mediated knowledge.
Could even God look into it without desire?

From Blue Venus, Persea Books, 2004.