Remembering Belle Waring

We're deeply saddened to hear about the passing of Belle Waring, a wonderful person and poet. We're remembering her today with this beautiful poem from her collection, Dark Blonde.


Your street at sundown.
Your window, the only one lit up

in all those apartments
stacked silhouette black

against the sky—what a color!
like Sargasso—

loud, like they threw blue dye in it.
Citizen, look up,

the sky god is speaking.
Man, that blue is talking:

You there on the old old earth,
listen to me, don’t blast yourself.

There: the woman on your balcony.
The woman you let slip—

her forearms on the railing
letting the breeze mess with her sleeves.

Behind her in the room
the books unbend

hover off the shelves
and like a small space station

they wheel like electrons in her skirt—
the books open up to the lines you want

open like air
like water that opens wherever you already are.

Man, look up. Even a small child
has sense enough to drink that blue

whose beauty wounds him so precisely
he knows his life is worth saving.