The Moon Had Chased the Sun That Day, by Judith Brice

Green Lines and Pink, by Georgia O'Keeffe (USA) 1919.

The moon had chased the sun that day*

until there were two there,
two spheres leaning in to each other
two halves bisecting the clouds and waves
to take me off into a new world, a different
sea of blue with peach, with orange hues
of loosened slopes, no longer darkened lines
or alarming truths of empty space.

Or was it the moon that dimmed
the hour as I lay
on that air of clouds,
without weight, without sate of soul
in the wait of full light, in the wish
for a sign of star, a future shine
to brighten my sky, my foreboding day?

Judith Brice

*After Georgia O’Keeffe's Green Lines and Pink, as viewed, inadvertently, horizontally.

Judith Alexander Brice is a retired Pittsburgh psychiatrist whose love of nature, experiences with illness, and outrage over political issues has informed much of her work. Her over 50 published poems have appeared previously in The Paterson Literary Review, The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, Vox Populi, Versewrights, The Magnolia Review and Light, a Journal of Photography and Poetry, and more. One poem, "Questions of Betrayal," is part of the permanent collection of the Holocaust Memorial Center in Farmington Hills, MI. Dr. Brice’s first book of collected poems, Renditions in a Palette, was published in 2013 by David Robert Books. Overhead From Longing, her second book, also by David Robert Books (Wordtech Communications), was published in August, 2018. One of the poems, "Mourning Calls" has been set to music by Michigan composer, Tony Manfredonia. Its performance, (Pittsburgh, PA, December, 2017 by Tuesday Musical Club) can be found at https://soundcloud.com/tony-manfredonia/sets/mourning-calls. Judy divides her time between Pittsburgh, PA and Petoskey, MI and delights in her life with her husband, poet Charles W. Brice, their substandard-standard poodle and two cats

horizontal view.