Eve Stands in Front of The Weeping Woman, by Sarah Dickenson Snyder

The Weeping Woman, by Pablo Picasso (Spain) 1937

Eve Stands in Front of The Weeping Woman
 
The splitting hurts.
She lifts her hands
& holds her own face,
can almost feel the silvery
tears, the edges he's cut,
the world of a woman sliced
into triangles. Are we all gray
inside? & how many sharpened
angles unlived? Red hat with a blue
bow. Packaged grief, she thinks
as she moves closer.
Picasso walls her in:
a woman weeps, her silenced
eyes haunting or haunted.

Sarah Dickenson Snyder

Sarah Dickenson Snyder carves in stone & rides her bike. Travel opens her eyes. She has four poetry collections, The Human Contract (2017), Notes from a Nomad (nominated for the Massachusetts Book Awards 2018), With a Polaroid Camera (2019), and Now These Three Remain (nominated for the Massachusetts Book Awards 2023). Poems have been nominated for Best of Net and Pushcart Prizes. Work is in Rattle, Verse Daily, and RHINO. sarahdickensonsnyder.com