Clouds at Sunset

First of all, thanks for stopping by ... all of you. According to the "hit counter" which goes clicking silently along on "Chosen Words" ... there were 42 of you who stopped by yesterday.

I value those visits. They tell me people are interested ... or not ... in what I'm saying.

Some days, I feel I'm talking to myself ... my words evaporating on the morning air ... and that's OK, I suppose, as long as I don't argue with myself. But it's nice to know I have some listeners, too.

It's especially nice when listeners join in the "conversation," sharing an experience of their own ... or showing me another side of the poem I've posted here.

Speaking of a poem ... I'm sharing one today that I'm considering sharing at a special reading on the evening of April 24 at the Dayton Art Institute.

The program begins at 7 p.m., and consists of two poets ... David Lee Garrison, of Wright State University ... and me ... sharing poems we've written about art ... and other subjects.

It's free ... and you're invited.

"Clouds at Sunset" was one of the first poems I considered sharing when I was invited to participate in the "Poets Respond to Art" program.

Then I reconsidered. It's a poem about my own art. Modesty, I suppose. But then I said, hey, why not?

So I'm likely to be sharing this poem about one of my own paintings, which found a good home in Illinois (I wish I could show you a picture of it, but hope you'll settle for the photo of another cloud arrangement, taken on one of my walks):

CLOUDS AT SUNSET

Mountains tower

on the left, clouds lie

piled like bubbles on the right,

while the sun

lowers itself into the sea,

and a white sail with

a horizontal red stripe

leans across the curving waves

in the foreground.

It's such an old painting,

it might have been the thirties,

awash in Depression, an art

seeking escape while accepting

the realities of that time,

or something as recent

as yesterday, made

to freeze-frame things

in the midst of change,

the clouds, the sun, the sea,

even those sturdy mountains,

eroding while we watch.

It could be just a dream.

© 2003

(From my first collection, Chance of Rain, Finishing Line Press, 2003).

***

Today's word: foreground

POSTSCRIPT - Once upon a time there was a weekly e-mailed newsletter called "Squiggles & Giggles" ... which went out to a small collection of family and friends ... until it stopped suddenly. But now it's back ... sort of ... in another form. Instead of clogging electronic mailboxes across the country, it now has a home ... an online home where friends and relativesare welcome to drop by any time ... day or night. It's not quite up to speed yet, but there's a posting on it ... take a look to the left ... under "Favorite Sites," just click on "Squiggles & Giggles" ... that should take you right to the page. And, if you have a free minute, please let me know what you think. I'll be at rbrimm@peoplepc.com

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

Well, Featheredpines, go directly to the head of the class! You're the first to respond with S&G and Little Red Car in the same comment. I have taken note of your word of caution, and will pass it along to The Little Red Car ... although it has always been rather careful ... while hanging back and watching all The Big Guys out there playing Bumper(ouch!)Cars ...