Dusk at Baie des Anges, 1932 poem based on an excerpt of the painting Dufy studied couleur-lumière, the effect of light on colour, turned the Mediterranean into a pool of flat cerulean. No wind riffles the water; this is sea as satin tablecloth or slab of marble. That smooth. That cool. Here in Virginia, blue jays have been interrupting my morning with their imperious squawks. Their feathers, the blue fire of the Côte d’Azur in summer. In Dufy’s oils, the sky sings hyacinthine. There is no motion; even the lone palm on the right hand side of the painting holds its breath. The figures in the foreground are poised, waiting for night to come down and paint them midnight, cold steel, indigo. . . . Barbara Crooker This poem is from the author's book, Les Fauves, C&R Press, 2017. Barbara Crooker is a poetry editor for Italian-Americana, and has published eight full collections and twelve chapbooks. Her latest book is Les Fauves (C&R Press, 2017). She has won a number of awards, including the WB Yeats Society of New York Award, the Thomas Merton Poetry of the Sacred Award, and three Pennsylvania Council on the Arts Creative Writing Fellowships. A VCCA fellow, she has published widely in such journals as Nimrod, Poet Lore, Rattle, The Green Mountains Review, The Denver Quarterly, and The Beloit Poetry Journal. website: www.barbaracrooker.com
2 Comments
Bob Buntrock
3/13/2018 01:18:53 pm
Enjoyed this when reading in in Les Fauves, enjoying it again this time with the painting attached.
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