The study in blue and white is the kitchen window
with its winter history, bottles on the sill holding
a steady cordial of January’s thin light—
clean, cold, undrinkable. Whereas summer
remains unthinkable, so future I could build a church
around it, be saved again by the virgin’s blue gown,
its cascade down to her naked feet, stained
glass windows a brilliant fracture of gold, black,
red for blood, and other passions.