Rita Dove


Reverie In Open Air - Poem by Rita Dove

I acknowledge my status as a stranger:
Inappropriate clothes, odd habits
Out of sync with wasp and wren.
I admit I don't know how
To sit still or move without purpose.
I prefer books to moonlight, statuary to trees.

But this lawn has been leveled for looking,
So I kick off my sandals and walk its cool green.
Who claims we're mere muscle and fluids?
My feet are the primitives here.
As for the rest—ah, the air now
Is a tonic of absence, bearing nothing
But news of a breeze.


Comments about Reverie In Open Air by Rita Dove

  • Rookie - 45 Points Colleen Courtney (5/15/2014 7:06:00 AM)

    Another great write filled with great imagery. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 12, 2013

Poem Edited: Wednesday, October 30, 2013


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