I

You are clear
O rose, cut in rock,
hard as the descent of hail.

I could scrape the colour   
from the petals
like spilt dye from a rock.

If I could break you   
I could break a tree.

If I could stir
I could break a tree—
I could break you.


II

O wind, rend open the heat,   
cut apart the heat,   
rend it to tatters.

Fruit cannot drop   
through this thick air—
fruit cannot fall into heat
that presses up and blunts
the points of pears   
and rounds the grapes.

Cut the heat—
plough through it,
turning it on either side   
of your path.
  • Source: Twentieth-Century American Poetry (2004)

Poet Bio

What People are Saying

"I did not expect to like Poetry Out Loud, truthfully. My first year, I did not want to compete at all.Somewhere along the line, I fell in love with the program and have learned so much about poetry, performing, and expression throughout the last three years."
Gabrielle Hunt
2017 NV POL Champion