Response to Georgia O’Keefe’s Light Coming on the Plains No. I, 1917
Arch and curve, the blue viscera of a cathedral unchecked.
That ribbed dome colored the blue of Mary,
no darker, much darker.
And with the fern’s hue and the sea’s tone nearer the yellow center
that seems to float and pulse above water of that same blue.
Though we are told it’s just land,
just a line,
just something we stand on to gaze upward.
Radiating out, out.
Response to Georgia O’Keefe’s No. II Light Coming on the Planes, 1917
The wrong word flings us up into, part of.
From oil slick, pooling into, yes, Mary’s blue,
and then Chagall’s, and then
that one bearded iris petal, the ruffled tongue of evening flight.
That kind of ascent. Rumble and shudder.
What different dawn was this?
Did the storm clouds pool and gather and remain?
There’s a waver in that line.
Response to Georgia O’Keefe’s No. III, Light Coming on the Plains, 1917
Dip me in this indigo.
Leave me be.
Kelly R. Samuels is a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee. She is the author of two chapbooks: Words Some of Us Rarely Use (Unsolicited Press) and Zeena/Zenobia Speaks (Finishing Line Press). Her poems have appeared in Salt Hill, Sweet Tree Review, Stirring, MORIA, and RHINO.