If a Painting Stops You
Let it grab your shoulders,
fasten its lasso
around your neck, pull you
in by handfuls.
Consider what it wants
to show you,
now that you are alone
together,
what land or bodies, what
light. What eyes
has the painting swapped
for yours,
in what direction is your
head swiveled.
See it, see through it to
the invented
place, this realm, real,
complete,
continuing in all directions
around the bit
you take in. Imagine what
you must
look like over there to them,
from within
the edges, peering into a room
like a mirror.
Is there a certain painting that inspired this poem, Hannah? Great work!
ReplyDeleteAn exercise in the art of slow looking. Lovely.
ReplyDeletewow, this is excellent, really fraws the reader into the poem and to the imagined painting
ReplyDeleteOh, this is how it is, Hannah!
ReplyDelete