On a Chagall Canvas, by Laurel Brett

The Three Candles, by Marc Chagall (France, b. Belarus) 1938

On a Chagall Canvas 
 
a bride bigger than the town 
below her
leans on air
 
her flat feet 
whiter than her gown
to her left her tall groom
 
dark & handsome 
almost disappears
her bouquet open stemless
 
roses strewn across a leafy 
sky like planets, a galaxy
they rise above the red
 
mist of the hazy village 
buildings, faces, hands pointing 
in animated conversation
 
three giant tapers blaze 
multi-coloured flames
in celebration or remembrance
 
or perhaps she is the Sabbath
queen   winged creatures circling
in the midground three birds
 
transforming      losing wings
becoming human 
or three humans sprouting wings 
 
becoming angels     two seem to take 
the air and soar     the largest
near as pale as the veiled bride 
 
drifts in a downward course 
toward earth    tell me how 
to know if I’m flying or falling
 
Laurel Brett
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Laurel Brett writes in many genres. Her poems and essays have appeared in venues such as The New York Times, Lilith, ONE ART, The Ekphrastic Review, and The Westchester Review. Her novel, The Schrödinger Girl (Akashic Books, 2020) was called a page turner by the New York Times. Literature claimed her life as a young child and is still the centre of her activities. Her goal is to be in conversation with other writers seeking to raise consciousness, protect our natural resources and create an equitable world. She lives on a hill that overlooks a harbour.