Still Life, 1907 by John Frederick Peto
Art provided by Tess as the Magpie Tale Writing Prompt for May 24, 2015.
Poetic disclaimer: this poem is total imagination and does not refer to any living person either here in Oregon or in Ohio lest I be crucified by someone. I don't know about you people but sometimes a poem goes where it will and I just work cleanup.
Living With The Artist
You hung your secret
on the wattled western wall
of our latest hut,
an old drab still life
(I never have taken to
your tastes in fine art)
that evokes the dark
for me and takes me into
the somber salts left
behind after seas
evaporate forever -
the flats where Johns race
rocket raw sand sleds.
Is there nothing more sere in
those treasures you keep?
May 24, 2015 3:12 PM
well done.....especially the last verse.
ReplyDeletean old drab still life .... Love it
ReplyDeleteThose memories.. Do we ever question its purposes.
ReplyDeleteThe salts left behind - well said.
ReplyDelete