The Estate of Single Blessedness

In this room
we looked naked.
Without a theory,
three eggs in a bowl.
Little by little
we gave up the hope
of ever being understood.
We gave off a big glow.
Outside the window
long-tailed pheasants
swept the forlorn lawns.
Little by little
the house painted by dusk
had its shadow removed.
Monks shot the white hares
at dawn, some of them
ran away and never.
Some of the monks too.

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Copyright © 2011 Mary Ruefle All rights reserved
from Crazyhorse
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission