Page 38 - Savoring

Christine Stewart-Nuñez
THE ARTIST PAINTS THE SUNSET
She faces fire where colors coalesce, heat an egg-yolk scarf she’ll wear
in the lush moment just before ripeness.
She paints from her body, her breath a caress spreading indigo into the air.
She faces fire where colors coalesce
and sings boy-blanket blue across
the ceiling of this framed world. She’ll dare in the lush moment just before ripeness
and, with red brick lipstick, press
her mouth into the sun’s arc. She’ll swear she faces fire where colors coalesce,
speaking grapefruit light to bless
the clouds, textures blurring joy and despair in the lush moment just before ripeness.
Full is her fire is her thought is her promise
as her heart unwinds paint from brush until bare. She faces fire where colors coalesce
in this moment just before ripeness.
(The phrase “lush moment just before ripeness” is from Marlena De Blasi’s book A Thousand Days in Venice)
This poem was first published in the Connecticut Review and is reprinted with permission from the author.
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