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Ann Day
Poetry and
Watercolors
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Two
men stand in silence, silhouettes against a silver sea. They may be studying stars or waiting quietly for peace, for some deep sorrow to be alleviated. I know their mood. I too have risen in the dark to follow the footsteps of a friend down to the borders of an empty beach where a wide moon path divides a black tide. I have stood by while another grieved a lover's death. Bodies of my own dead lie deep under other oceans; moon-washed skies like these rise pale and radiant beyond whatever rocky headlands guard their unknown resting places. The strangers in this painting -- despite their odd soft hats, their cloaks, their different century -- wait as I have waited for the moon to erase all shadows, for the night wind to rise, whispering consolation through the harp of grassess at our feet. If I stand here long enough perhaps they will turn and walk back carefully over the damp rocks, the silver tips of their walking sticks catching the gleam of moonlit water. I wait here in my own time for our eyes to meet, for each of them to raise his hat in silent greeting. |
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| (c) 2007 Ann Day |