Selected Poems

by Rita Dove, 1993 Poet Laureate of the United States (PS 3554 O884 A6 1993B)

Geometry (pg 17)

I prove a theorem and the house expands:
the windows jerk free to hover near the ceiling,
the ceiling floats away with a sigh.

As the walls clear themselves of everything
but transparency, the scent of carnations
leaves with them. I am out in the open

and above the windows have hinged into butterflies,
sunlight glinting where they've intersected.
They are going to some point true and unproven.