“After the terrible rain, the Annunciation” —
buildings over the leafless trees.

Cou’d our first father, and his toilsome self, plough
down the long hall where she glistens like a star?

Hence, Cupid! with your cheating toys!
I, being born a woman and distressed, chant

“Light! more light!” The shadows deepen, even
though mine eyes have seen the glory —

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame.
Old plant of Asia — so you have swept me back.

The human heart has hidden treasures —
well, well — we will do the right thing.

Your words are frost on speargrass.

. . . . . . .

Cento by Susan Powers Bourne
Drawn from Index of First Lines in
The World Split Open: Four Centuries
of Women Poets in England and America,
1552 -1950, ed. Louise Burkinow, 1974.