Molly Kirschner '16
So tilt your head to the wind after the rapture
of rain. Sundry in the field.
Under a tree. In a blob of Rorschach shade.
Let fall your lids. And let the light stain them
checkered. You’ve seen cherries redder than rubies,
and cherry-colored ivy. You’ve seen the sea swell up like
blisters. You’ve seen it in sapphire, blue fire,
the color of a midsummer midnight. Love,
there is nowhere to turn. I’m asking you to turn.