Basket of Oranges             
                   After Henri Matisse


I want the oranges in this basket
to stand for changes in my life.
I have embraced their floodtide of color—
I am letting it splash right over my body
like a blessing of ardent silk.
Alone in the darkened amphitheater
of my soul, I suddenly start to love
their gaiety, I begin to need
their brightness that sears silence
like a thousand live red coals.

I am keeping these green-leaved oranges
until I learn to live somehow
in their huge and ancient light,
as if I were a warrior on a white camel
crossing the sands of Morocco
under a hammered copper moon,
as if I were a merchant in the souks
placing the lucent globes of oranges
into baskets, greeting friends who pass
with kisses on the hair.