Sky Above Clouds
blue skies... with clouds, of course
the blue must be ocean, reflecting
sky, there must be oceans
of blue refracted
in tiny convex prisms
light as air, one hemisphere
of haze-filtered universe
another the blue
of clear sky twice reflected
until all she saw were rows of white
interrupting the continuous sea
not the rows of farm furrows
but the same apparent order
imposed by the eye, escaping
into its own horizon
Ekphrasis in response to Sky Above Clouds IV by Georgia O'Keefe. If I was a billionaire I would wake up to this painting each morning on one wall, and a wide cool beach outside my wall of windows. Meanwhile, I could look at this painting all day, even if I do only own the postcard from the Chicago Art Institute. My breathing relaxes when I do.
blue skies... with clouds, of course
the blue must be ocean, reflecting
sky, there must be oceans
of blue refracted
in tiny convex prisms
light as air, one hemisphere
of haze-filtered universe
another the blue
of clear sky twice reflected
until all she saw were rows of white
interrupting the continuous sea
not the rows of farm furrows
but the same apparent order
imposed by the eye, escaping
into its own horizon
Ekphrasis in response to Sky Above Clouds IV by Georgia O'Keefe. If I was a billionaire I would wake up to this painting each morning on one wall, and a wide cool beach outside my wall of windows. Meanwhile, I could look at this painting all day, even if I do only own the postcard from the Chicago Art Institute. My breathing relaxes when I do.
You know what? I'm dedicating this poem to my mom. I didn't have a chance to finish the kind of poem I wanted to write for her for her birthday, but I realized that I don't need to. I can write her more poems... there doesn't have to be "the" poem for mom's birthday. So no pressure! I can write as many as I want, as short, tangential and idiosyncratic as I want. My mother loves wide open spaces where she can contemplate. She's never told me this; I just have a feeling. My mother is also an artist who lives in the desert. And my mother put me on my first airplane by myself at seven years old, and oh, the clouds. The thrill and child's joy I experienced the first time I saw them from above I will never forget. I'm right back there every time I fly.
