​In Cezanne's Pyramid of Skulls, by Bob Bradshaw

Pyramid of Skulls by Paul Cezanne (France) 1901.

​In Cezanne's Pyramid of Skulls

the dead just are: they are done 
with squalls, politics, 
quarreling.

Apples and jugs may squat
on tables out of view,
but here there is no loaf 
of bread. No vase of geraniums.
No glass of wine.

There are only the four skulls
staring emptily at you,
as if you were a photographer
capturing a family picture.

Christ does not levitate
amid the brush strokes. There is no open
prayer book. Each skull
is as solid as a peach

or a crop of rock. There
is nothing the observer 
can do. As Cezanne would say,
everything has been

arranged.

Bob Bradshaw

This poem was previously published at Eclectica.

Bob Bradshaw is recently retired, and living in California.  He is a big fan of the Rolling Stones.  Mick may not be gathering moss, but Bob is.  Bob's work can be found in many publications on the net, including Apple Valley Review, Eclectica, Loch Raven Review, Peacock Journal and Pedestal Magazine, among others.