“the calico/of your eyes”

Here is a poem by Los Angeles poet Michelle Bitting.


As memory brushes its sequins
under the desert’s
lifted skirt

I pray with a monk’s fever

and stitch an austere habit
from the calico
of your eyes

that no longer watch
but wing     like clouds

over the trembling mesa.

No way to scour
this smoke
from your sky’s eternal rooms

or the tempered rock—

ghosting  into        gone.  

from diode, Winter 2012