Mother With Two Children, 1917, by Egon Schiele
Once in Tulln, I ran from my father
to live on alchemy, fish bones,
and the sweet blue Danube.
two boys rode by on a goat cart
laughing outside my window.
At sunset my three models came to me:
a mother and her children
from over the mountain.
I posed them flesh against flesh
the baby’s tiny hands outstretched.
The mother tucked my money
into her apron
her face warm under my thumbs.
The children fell asleep
while I painted in the shadows
my brain a cold planet
lit with spectral fire.
This poem first appeared in Ekphrasis.
Erica Goss served as Poet Laureate of Los Gatos, CA from 2013-2016. In 2019, she won the Zocalo Poetry Prize. She is the author of Night Court, winner of the 2016 Lyrebird Award, Wild Place, and Vibrant Words: Ideas and Inspirations for Poets. Recent work appears in Lake Effect, Atticus Review, Contrary, Convergence, Spillway, Cider Press Review, Eclectica, The Tishman Review, Tinderbox, The Red Wheelbarrow, and Main Street Rag, among others. Erica is the editor of Sticks & Stones, a bi-monthly poetry newsletter. Please visit her at www.ericagoss.com.
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply.
The Ekphrastic Review
Join us on Facebook: