Reading Between the Lines
In Ice Age paintings, bison seem in motion
with herds advancing in successive waves,
inevitable as tides in the ocean,
time frozen on walls in a limestone cave.
Beneath bold brushwork lie strange cryptic marks -
Y-shaped forms, crosses, dashes, rows of dots.
The written word born, innovation sparked?
Or doodles, nonsense scrawled, all scattershot?
We crave a hidden message in these signs,
perhaps the ancient artist’s hunting tips
passed down. We think we read between the lines,
but what we really do is try to slip
some meaning in where now it’s disappeared,
like prey that fled, tracks left to haunt those near.
Carl D. Kinsky
Carl Kinsky is a poet pretending to be a criminal defense lawyer in Ste. Genevieve, Missouri. He started writing sonnets when his wife insisted he write her a love poem. He has only recently developed enough courage to start submitting a few of them for publication.
The Ekphrastic Review
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