Sense Refreshment

Poem by Linda Bergeron

talking, tables and their parted chairs, long mirrors
making a so-wide panorama of faces and heads,
tall Carnegie windows opening the walls,
heightening everything, as they do

looking North, the gray spring evening sky glooms
a neutral background, a rustic alleyway fronts red brick,
three-storied and thinly armed in wrought-iron;
a saturation of art awashes the gray
in color, sound, voice, music – and surrounds
like an old shawl that people have worn for ages together,
in the most ancient of practices, as both preamble and stage
for comfortable talk, insightful comment, smiles, retreats,
little shards of deep friendliness, renewed acquaintance

from the East, the distant silent tower,
a fellow building close and eminent,
thick with great stone of other generations, holding
arched windows almost like half-circle starbursts
but dull, staid, and beautifully old

from a long South room - shininess, bright color,
reflections bouncing, capturing, relaying, dancing
all the possibilities: voice and tone,
the dialogues of friends; entries, exits,
stairs to all those other places, where stowed
workshop cupboards await the hands
to paint and paste and pot

in the West, a wall of pebble rock worked, and
finished! and hung in color, textural detail, while
voyeurs’ fingers are stilled against the desire to touch;
the variety of landscapes of color - as light as fog, as potent
as arrays of rock, or ripples of water near autumn grass,
vast intimacies of color, dimension and contrast,
alive with suggestion, and delayed to a pause,
that after silent thoughtfulness before each frame and form
there is the moment’s invitation to be there, really there

This entry was posted on May 23, 2011 at 15:43 and is filed under Contributing Authors. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.