John Constable's Seascape Study with Rain Clouds
Praise be the Art whose subtle power could stay Yon cloud, and fix it in that glorious shape; Nor would permit the thin smoke to escape, Nor those bright sunbeams to forsake the day.... -- William Wordsworth What could be more impossible than to paint the shapes and unstable configurations of clouds? The painter gazes, marks the canvas, and looks up; the clouds have turned, twisted, swelled into something new. They present moving targets in time, stories, rather than image. Impossible to arrest no matter how fast the painter paints. you can feel the speed of his desperate laying on paint with urgency trying to capture the smoke to reproduce falling rain he rides the raindrops down with quick slashing brushstrokes hammering the sea stirring up the salted waves refusing to hold their pose frozen wisps, the black racing clouds, stilled by his brush hang impossibly in his petrified stone air as tiny ships hesitate Charles Tarlton This poem was first published in Haibun Today. Charles Tarlton says, "I am a retired professor of philosophy living and writing poetry in Northampton, Massachusetts with my wife, Ann Knickerbocker, a painter."
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October 2024
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