What the Light Was Like

Easter Morning

(Amy Clampitt)

a stone at dawn

cold water in the basin
these walls' rough plaster
imageless
after the hammering
of so much insistence
on the need for naming
after the travesties
that passed as faces,
grace: the unction
of sheer nonexistence
upwelling in this
hyacinthine freshet
of the unnamed
the faceless

Here's a link to the Amy Clampitt website.

Enjoy.