for Wendy Videlock
It’s all about the light,
she says, as we drive west
and notice one rock fin
standing apart from the rest,
radiant now in its relief.
You could drive right past it
four hundred times and not see it.
Let the heart do what light does—
help me notice new layers of beauty.
I turn to see her as she looks
at the rocks, face naked with awe.
She has always been lovely to me,
but tonight, my god, tonight.