Elizabeth Rivers

A curving trail—the callused field obscures ituntil we shovel out the clotted brick,lug a ton or two of sand to fittrenches, level rumpled earth, correct...

The labyrinth here, as well!A canvas floorcopied from Chartres, brought throughthe open door,unfolds its whorl (and stains,old wax gone gray...

Last week a mathematician said greenglow, aquamarine—and I suppose rare parrotsor the searing rise of rice,...