I can just see the shapes O’Keeffe
saw at night: Kitchen Mesa, Piedra Lumbre,
But the moon shines huge, Mars glowers red
over red rocks, Venus hangs radiant
above Abiquiu Lake.
This is the stuff of dark art,
the black smock of genius—the hallowed
high plateau brushstroked ghostly white.
Wayne Lee (wayneleepoet.com) lives in Santa Fe and works as a copyeditor for The New Mexican. His collections include Doggerel & Caterwauls: Poems Inspired by Cats & Dogs (Red Mountain Press), Twenty Poems from the Blue House (Whistle Lake Press) and a forthcoming full-length collection from Red Mountain Press.