77th Letter

A photograph:

you, dear friend,

on an islanded

slab of rock,

silver-blue water

on every side.

 

Your blond braid,

your back

turned toward the lens.

 

A French painter's model

of the nineteenth century:

Ingres, Bouguereau.

 

Or maybe

Dalí's young woman,

shoulders and head framed

by a sun-soaked window.

 

The soles of your feet

are silent violins.

 

In this image of you

taken in the full

stridency of summer,

a quiet grace

lives and whispers

its ineffable secret.

 

You lean into the rock

and watch the water's

endlessness.





Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 139 times
Written on 2019-01-05 at 04:31

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