After Manet’s In the Conservatory, 1879, by ​Debra Kaufman

In the Conservatory, by Édouard Manet (France) 1879

After Manet’s In the Conservatory, 1879

It’s not what he might have said--
We must visit Mother soon,

or I’ve taken a mistress, you see--
nor is it his pettish tone 

she’s grown so used to. 
It’s how he leans over her

like a proprietor his merchandise,
gesturing with a manicured finger

at her wedding band. 
Freesias whisper 

over her other shoulder. 
If only he would cease speaking…

Wild ginger and lady ferns exhale,
wilting the feathers in her hat.

She no longer admires
her furled, silly parasol, 

the way she’d fanned out
her skirt on the bench.

The cinched-in waist 
of her tulle dress makes her woozy.

She’s removed one tawny kid glove--
to do what?

She looks past the glass panes
toward a moon rising 

wafer-thin, translucent, 
almost full.

​Debra Kaufman

​Debra Kaufman's most recent poetry collections are Outwalking the Shadow and God Shattered. She has written many monologues and short plays and five full-length plays, most recently Seeing Light. Music, dance, community, books, movies, and watching birds in her back yard are sustaining her these days. A Midwest native, she has lived in North Carolina for over thirty years.