Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Everything that moves

 photo Woman-Seated1.jpg

Woman Seated In Open Field

He didn’t see her at first, his mouth
flooded with wild mustard, his eyes
drowned by the drain of the sun, so
many crows blot out such small detail,
but there she was, still life strewn in a
suitcase countryside, an angel he did not
want to see given to such an awkward
arrangement, the wind pushing debris
and bird paper, emergency exit cards,
news from a catastrophic future scurrying
across the rabbitscape, tall farm grasses
mottled in crimson flecks where the school
children stood stroked in shock, small figures
expressed with a flick of brush beside a strap
of smoke where her pale hand bends at the
wrist waving goodbye to sky, to everything
that moves beneath it, beckoning, perhaps,
a too eager Vincent to take wing and follow.

Joseph Gallo
September 10, 2014

 photo Woman-Seated2.jpg

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