A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
The wall crumbles and the world floods in.
Put down my sword and shield.
May you free fall into me.
Of all the names for love, this.
Da Vinci knew there were no lines around things.
We are sfumato.
No reason to resist any longer.
If you feel me brush by you in the night,
even if we never met: we know each other.
Let me hold you against the coming sea.
Author’s note: sfu·ma·to (sfo͞oˈmädō): the artistic technique of allowing tones and colors to shade gradually into one another, producing softened outlines or hazy forms.
Copyright 2018 Doug Anderson