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Still Life
poetry [ ]

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by [corazón ]

2006-12-19  |     | 



Fog descending from the sky
like wet linen,
the valley immersed in a silver veil
The sun has retired
behind a misty curtain
he is painting this freezing landscape,
bathing it in tender pink, orange and
red,
caressing it with fragile shades of rose
and gold,
motionless the wind,
trees raise their heads in awe,
we stand and stare at this work of art,
Please, Sun, do not stop painting,
don’t let brother sleep take
the brush from your hand!
Soon the Queen of the Night
will throw her heavy robe over all,
smudge the painting
into a sea of black and grey…
unrecognizable, ordinary,
deleted into nothing, invisible…
or merely hidden behind a careful hand?
To be revealed, revived,
painted all over again…
more beautiful, more colourful,
more explosive, more exciting,
at dawn…


Sybille (Sydney) Krivenko 2006

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