Sunday, January 13, 2013

This painting, once



I knew this painting once
I knew its brush strokes
and colors
its subject and theme,
its history,
its statement (bold)
(insistent) (demanding)

I knew this painting once
hanging in its predestined place
accepting the somber stares
it was owed (tears)

I no longer know this painting.
I sit in a graveyard
my back to the sun
and talk to inscriptions
on the stones.

Photograph: Abstract Gravestones by John Luty via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission

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