This one thing became another and another

Mercedes Lawry

 

In the laboratory of art,
a secret language took form.
The animals stepped
from their cages as a shim of moon
prowled the high windows.
The paintings on the wall
were echoes and rain
and errant explorers.
The wings that had been folded on shelves
opened in a slow stir of dust.
Voices unfroze and a beautiful chaos of sound
filled every space while the unlikely imaginings
faded to stories, familiar and heroic.
This was the end of hypotheses.
Every manner of blue became a sky,
a lyric rescue
a sly verb.

 

 

 

Mercedes Lawry has published poetry in Poetry, Prairie Schooner, Rhino, Nimrod, Poetry East, and Saint Ann’s Review. Her honors include awards from the Seattle Arts Commission, Hugo House, and Artist Trust. She’s been a Jack Straw Writer and a Pushcart Prize nominee, twice, and she’s held a residency at Hedgebrook. Her chapbook, “There are Crows in My Blood,” was published in 2007; another, “Happy Darkness,” was released in 2011. She lives in Seattle.

 

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