“Tonight I walked into the sunset”
Here the fragile white of age-bleached skull
curves through a hinge of jaw like youthful skin,
and there, two restless eyes seem fraught with all
she could not say. She didn’t paint within
the lines, couldn’t choose the safe belief
that everything is simple. Stark as grief
her violet buildings rise beneath a moon
so white that bone shows through. There the noon
sun lights the mountains. Here you see how hands
crack wide her heart: she painted sound, used blood
to mark the earth. Because she knew that strands
of life are drawn of clay and bone, not mud,
she wrote: “so give my greetings to the sky. . .”
And in her art the skulls nod in reply.
© 2006 Christine Klocek-Lim
See Georgia O’Keeffe’s art here.
One sees through the glassesthe one sees through the walls.-Darma Mohammad-
Kai, thanks. :-)ufukhati, as always, a lovely quote to welcome my post. Thank you.
Andrew, thanks! 🙂
a great poem for great art
Aurora, Ruthanne, and Pat, thank you so very much!