On Whistler’s Nocturne: Blue and Gold—Southampton Water, 1872
In the busy harbour, wave-elbowed
boats drop sail one night,
turn as one to face
imperfect perfect golden Cyclops.
Sailors transfixed, all hands bewitched.
Passing clouds scar lambent observer,
hovering over light pierced skyline:
harbour’s pub and inn, lamp and post--
meagre lucent offerings all.
Hulking ships struck dumb in darkest
dusk so blue, cloud spread sky felt
as shadowed lapping water heard.
Over all our Orphic moon hangs low,
so much more than seen from earth,
awe producing awe, age from age to age.
Michelle Geoga is an 2017 MFAW candidate at the School of the Art Institute.
The Ekphrastic Review
Join us on FB and Twitter!
Find a writer, artist, or poem, etc. by searching here: