Mourning Picture
They have carried the mahogany chair and the cane rocker out under the lilac bush, and my father and mother darkly sit there, in black clothes. Our clapboard house stands fast on its hill, my doll lies in her wicker pram gazing at western Massachusetts. This was our world. I could remake each shaft of grass feeling its rasp on my fingers, draw out the map of every lilac leaf or the net of veins on my father's grief-tranced hand. Out of my head, half-bursting, still filling, the dream condenses-- shadows, crystals, ceilings, meadows, globes of dew. Under the dull green of the lilacs, out in the light carving each spoke of the pram, the turned porch-pillars, under high early-summer clouds, I am Effie, visible and invisible, remembering and remembered. Adrienne Rich as found on http://www.theartsdesk.com/visual-arts/listed-poems-inspired-paintings.
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January 2021
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