Rusty Morrison

(United States)

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Best Poem of Rusty Morrison

Measurement Fable

Eggs, transparent and sometimes red-veined as insect wings, might be hidden
in bark crevices

or a scatter of tawny leaves.

The distance between one gestation and the next, a pleat of the dress I wear

as if I could sew myself another.

Practiced, my tendon-reflex where the tunnel narrows its halo
into a noose. I trust

dexterity as a kind of nourishment, as I believe my own
mother couldn't.

To own, beauty is the first lie of it, and brief
as incident

is gray
thistles turning silver in sunrise as if for my eyes ...

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