Carte Blanche by Daniel Hudon

The Blank Check, by Rene Magritte, 1965.

Carte Blanche

One afternoon out of eternity into a forest
rode a woman on a horse through the trees
standing in the spaces of the forest.
She held the bridle with white-gloved hands.
 
Through the spaces in front of behind the trees
rode the woman on the horse in her white turtleneck,
gray riding suit and cap;
this happened one afternoon in a painting.
 
Between the trees you can see the woman on the horse
and through the woman on the horse you can see the trees
as if time has been sliced into ribbons
and she like the forest is there and not there,
 
glimpsed from the past through the trees
into the forest of the woman’s vacant smile
as she peers into the spaces ahead.
Perhaps she like the forest is an illusion
 
and never in the whole history of the world
have either existed and here we are
fussing about them, while she rides
from one eternity to another, from a canvas
 
to the forest of your mind, where the trees
stand tall and are never cut down
and the spaces are grand, grand.

Daniel Hudon

Daniel Hudon, originally from Canada, is an adjunct lecturer in astronomy and math in Boston, He is the author of the forthcoming nonfiction book about the biodiversity crisis, Brief Eulogies for Lost Animals (Pen and Anvil, Boston), as well as a nonfiction book about astronomy, The Bluffer's Guide to the Cosmos (Oval Books, London) and a chapbook of prose and poetry, Evidence for Rainfall (Pen and Anvil, Boston). A big fan of Magritte, he lives in Boston, MA, and can be found at danielhudon.com and @daniel_hudon.