A Sunday Afternoon on the Island
In Sunday scene, Seurat with pointillism
Created through illusion new impressions;
Bent the rules of light as sure as prism,
Redefining Art by pure expression.
Contemplate the waters sheen eternal.
Glimpse a sky obscured, made hard to find.
Wonder at attire to our eyes formal,
Worn with leisure uppermost in mind.
How the shadows render definition
To black umbrella, crinoline and skirt!
See the skipping girl in fixed position,
Monkey in the foreground, pale, inert.
Note the rowers bent in their exertion,
A cast of people, young, old, rich, and poor;
Parasol and picnic in conjunction,
Boatman cradling pipe in burly paw.
Ponder leaf convergence from a distance,
Precisely as Seurat intends you do.
Wonder at tree-trunk’s stark insistence
Your eyes avert to details meant to view.
Why is this a work for admiration,
Extending even to the dotted frame?
I proffer that purposed pixelation
Mimics Life’s perfection much the same.
For what are we if not a mass of dots
Comprised of DNA uniquely mixed
By Master hand with absolutely lots
Of palette permutations, never fixed?
David Watt is a poet residing in Canberra, Australia. His poetry has been published on The
Society of Classical Poets website, within various themed collections of poetry and prose,
and The Empath magazine. He enjoys responding to diverse topics, and always brings focus
to the beauty of life.
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