it's not the roan of muted lust
and lacking the direct command of black...
an autumn ray let in by stained glass
to eulogize remains of grand days.
full shapes - serene and tranquil, nurture thoughts –
the ladies with their beads or water jugs.
i stand and hear Dali’s piquant cough
and Goya’s Maha’s smile and silver laugh.
like a pariah turn from fine glaze
of reticence and lace
to mindprint orgy of Kandinsky's tones
and want to prick my fingers
on a maze of bougainvillea thorns,
that out of brown earth,
strive up and formless --
form the quilt that is my thoughts.
Brown
© Copyright: Athena, 2005
Свидетельство о публикации №105050400648
Свидетельство о публикации №105050400648
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