Saturday, October 25, 2014

After The Palette Dries


who are we after the palette dries,
colors blend, shapes form, un-form.

your life is defined by myriad patterns.
a sketch of recall you leave to imagination.

memory becomes narrative in abstract.
that was your art. it is my guide. I waver.

who are we after chapters end?
we are characters sketched on any

shape of paper or canvas. we are
ink drying like tears in blackest night.

Poem © 2014 Rick Burnett Baker 
Painting by my Aunt Jean Garner, circa 1990.  Watercolor and ink on paper. 

No comments:

Post a Comment