Saturday, September 10, 2005

In an Envelope

There's a lot of poetic fodder moving through. For myself it's most anything with light or sound or feeling. This week a friend sent me a notice of an art show including her work. It took me like an anxious dog on a leash. So I ran with it.
In an Envelope

Came to me in an envelope
Manila yellow with lines
Straight and squiggly
Last one named--was mine
written in the hand of one carefree
in the practice of precision.
String around red button,
floppy and dog-eared.
Woof, woof. Good boy.
I open it up.

Reach in and pull out card stock,
four-color and folded, glossy brochure
of an international flavor.
With my name on it
I peruse the presentation.

Trees and hills and red-roofed monastery
On a river to match the sky
purple backdrop
of distant mountains
all seen through the window
with red pots on its sill
somewhere in Southern Spain.
Can travel there anytime I want.

Notice now a window in the window.
The scene: a mural on a brick wall
painted by an artist who loves
the trees and hills
and the far side of the river.
And painted by the artist who loves
the art and the trees and
the hills and the river
and the mountains
and the mural
and the wall and the window.
Captured by the man with the camera
who loves the artist
of the painting
of the mural.

Sky and mountains and river and hills and trees
and monastery and window sill’s red pots
and window in a window.
Who’s inside the window?

The artist with a ladder
The artist with an easel
The artist with a camera
The brochure of an art show
Inside the yellow manila envelope
With my name on it.
What is your inspiration?
Woof, woof.

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