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A Cubist's Still Life by Doug Tanoury The sky was perfectly azure today, With no more than few faint wisps Of cirrus and stratus clouds Feathering lightly across high altitudes Above the Southern horizon. This clear autumn day That to me is like one of Picasso's blue paintings. These are the days of dim indigo, Where dusk never fully darkens to night, And dawn never really advances towards day, But is stunted and weak like the first light That shines each morning through the Sycamores. These are the days of suspended disbelief Where I believe, what once I did not, In a turned around consciousness that has slipped Between darkness and light into That limbo state That is the mezzanine of being, Where everything is lit in cerulean hues, And whatever I do Is so much empty motion, Mere mimesis, A cubist's still life. |
