Conjure
Hiram Larew
Pretend that there’s a symphony behind this
Pretend there’s a wide-open humming window right here
or a whistle weaving in and out with the passing trees --
those kind of sounds
Imagine that there’s a color background
the springtime kind that can’t wait to be touched
A color so clear that it sees around corners
Imagine that
Or conjure all of this
while recalling the smell of an afternoon corn-storm
which is what happens when highs and lows collide
inside such confined vistas
And with fields in mind
wonder what would it be like to have
all of this carried away by crows
or wished for
eyes closed
over the picnic cake