In a painting by
Poussin, the eye must ramble.
Near and far spaces
open and close. I
never see what today I
saw: the artist’s hand.
A box of pastels
just beyond the tide, she leaned
over her work, her
hands, covered with chalk,
accomplishing more than came
to her quick young mind.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Author: Tom D'Evelyn
Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Cranston RI and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at tom.develyn@comcast.net. D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at http://tdevelyn.com and other sites.
View all posts by Tom D'Evelyn
Metaxyturn Diaries 