She Sees A Pelvis In the Moon by Lynne Thompson

channeling Georgia O’Keefe

and it looks like a dancer on the loose,
like someone set free of her blues (or

maybe it’s just her imagination—
a goulash of yellow and purple?)

Moon looks like a mushroom’s memory
or, considered another way,

like an index of illusions—
such sweet inebriation!—performing:

water-falling—
curiosity—

bones across the Bonneville Salt Flats,
northwest Utah—a contented lover
when he contrives to be absent.

Because nothing is less real
than realism the artist said;

because nothing raptures woman
like ever-azure, far-reaching skies.

Lynne Thompson’s manuscript, Fretwork, was selected by Jane Hirshfield for the 2018 Marsh
Hawk Press Poetry Prize. She’s also the author of Start With a Small Guitar and Beg No Pardon.
Her recent work appears or is forthcoming in the journals Pleiades, Nelle, and Poetry, among
others.