Aug 11, 2018
Backfisch 1916-
Head tilted
Parted lips
Leaning forward, falling
Into nothing
Into something soft and cool
Eyes lidded, alluding to
Another time or place, or person--
Beyond the canvas
Maybe something
Receding into the back of her mind
Hair tied
In a low black bun
Cheeks rosy
Skin pale
Half conscious or, too conscious to care
The brush strokes at the nape of her neck
Aware of herself:
a world in herself
Living through windows
Streaked with drops
of gentle rain
Springtime grows from the harsh/cold/dead
A lamb emerges from the lion’s den
Floral garments
Brightly colored
Light and cool
“April is the cruellest month”
Blue eyes
Pale -sinking, floating- in the early morning
sky-- wiser now than before
Tomorrow is irrelevant
Today drifts by in a prolonged glance
