Liberties
What should I do with this girl
in the painting, these grapes.
Why has the still life stayed.
Hundreds of years, hundreds
and hundreds, and still, fruit,
ladies, the scrimshaw of light
and shadow along the edges
of their bones under the skin.
Flowers in a vase, and ocean
beneath grey clouds. Was she
beautiful in her time, we wonder
of the women, and what would
that have meant for her. What
are the consequences of luminosity.
The flowers have all their petals.
The shore cowers off-stage.
Being beautiful is a double edged sword, to be sure. You get noticed. You don't get seen.
ReplyDeleteAnother fine poem that stretches aesthetic, philosophical and yes, political chops in a melody with room to fall in. I'm struck, in this example, of how you always end your poems at the right time, neither too soon or too late.
ReplyDeleteBTW Whoa to Fireblossom's comment (nothing quite so nice as driving Arizona moonlight listening to Emmylou Harris).
I so like these lines: "the scrimshaw of light / and shadow" and "the consequences of luminosity".
ReplyDeleteYes, I too love "the consequences of luminosity." Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI frequently think of the people who posed for paintings and often wonder if the skies and seas were really like that or made up...why liberties?
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