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 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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October 2024
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