Poetry Thursday: Grainstacks, Monet
my hand moves
my brush flicks back and forth
like a restless horse’s tail
on a cool mosquitoed night
you are still
unmoving
humble and transcendent
earthbound
yet strangely elusive
cones of silence
my brush flicks back and forth
like a restless horse’s tail
on a cool mosquitoed night
you are still
unmoving
humble and transcendent
earthbound
yet strangely elusive
cones of silence
posted by Carol Anne @ 9:12 AM
6 comments
6 Comments:
I like that; brush flicking like a horse's tail; only instead of a cool mosquitoed night, I feel the hot, dry, dusty day that I imagine in the picture.
This is very good. It conveys to me the miracle of stillness created out of movement.
Yes, I also liked the comparison of the brush strokes with a horse's tail!
Just perfect, Carol Anne!
This poem is perfectly matched with the painting.
cones of silence. Very simple and profound imagery.
Thanks for all the great comments! I appreciate it.
Lovely word imagery for one of my favorites. I like how you went from painter to stacks. I like the horse tail imagery quite a bit, too. That's the phrase that caught me the most.
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