Light began in September to streak the slant.
Now it unseals in the spring, willfully singing the realm of separate design.
It picks up the speed of streaming recall
and takes us off post-equinox able to signify.

Or so I guess: Ninety is old, I
keep telling myself, so behave! And I’m older, 94. It is the look of happy
95, blue, grey though cold. It gives
a green expectation and I taste.

Marie Ponsot recently received the Aiken Taylor Award in Modern American Poetry, given annually by Sewanee Review. In 2013, she was awarded the Ruth Lilly Prize for lifetime achievement by the Poetry Foundation. Her Collected Poems was published in August by Knopf.

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Published in the June 1, 2015 issue: View Contents
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