inspired by a photo by Gary Groves at SFCC
Against an ecru background,
blue form with inverted-V shadow,
empty like a coat-hanger corner,
reaching just to the frame’s edge.
I know the risks of near-doubling,
because I write my observations
in wiry penmanship that travels
over white notebook paper.
The form is something like a mountain
contained by Library walls. But
the high point of the mottled blue
possible-granite is black, not snowy.
The photo carries me outside the room,
wondering in what latitude
I could find this peak to climb.
I finally read the title,“Blue Agave.”
It’s a close-up of a narrowing lobe,
whose snagged tip says
the robust form breathes, lives and dies.
Knowing that, I get a chill in my spine,
since the fat succulent and its slender echo
write the difference
between fullness and decay.