Datura          

by Lisa Fields

When dusk curls close

pale trumpets

lift  

  faces 

      rimmed with lavender

stray

pollen crumbs 

cling to shimmering cheeks

I lean over

cupped petals

where bees

     work for their queen

Evening Datura

At dusk, scratching

beneath the South window—

Curve-billed thrasher

grasps

a wriggling moth

catching my shadow,

he flies away                                               

— vermilion eye flashing                  

on the open bloom

a moth lands,

silent

* * * * *

Lisa Fields lives in Southwestern New Mexico. Writing poetry expresses her desire to be immersed in a state of balance. Her inspiration comes from the joy of wild places and the challenge to live happily in the domesticated world. She is a contract writer for Quirine Ketterings, Professor of Nutrient Management in Agricultural Systems, Cornell University, Ithaca, NY. In her home state of NY, Lisa served the farming community as an Extension educator for 10 years, and then worked for 10 years as a self-employed advisor.