I

Light and Shadow

When John looked south from his seat at the table
He saw Siva dancing in the ring of fire on a cold stove.
Above, a granddaughter shivered in the city of light.
On either side a window, its lower half occluded
So that nuns could pray in that former chapel.
Outside, large cedar limbs caught the sun.
Inside, reflected light played on ceiling and floor.

(Oil on canvas, 26”x25”, 2022)

II

Glads

When Sue looks ahead from her seat at the table
She sees John and his friend Gil seated at a café,
The past flattened but remembered for her dwellings,
Her shawl of many crossings there for comfort,
The pitcher of gladiolas to her right,
Cindy’s sculpted cock reduced to two dimensions
In a corner where green leaves light a northward window.

(Oil on canvas, 16”x24”, 2022)

“ . . . It is the philosopher’s search/for an interior made exterior/
And the poet’s search, for the same exterior made interior . . .”

Wallace Stevens:  Ordinary Evening