Rising out of parched pages,
it soared
above the drowsy nod of drone.
Of course I couldn’t see you,
but I could hang every word
on a narrow line, suspend them
above the dusty floor
and watch while they danced
on staccato beats.
Or I could take the words
down a minor scale
and listen as your voice descended
into a midnight kind of blue.
Your voice surprised me.
As I listened,
it wasn’t hard
to follow you
into a darkened room
and close the door.
First published in Kalliope – a journal of women’s literature & art.
Linda Wimberly is a writer, artist and musician from Marietta, GA. A former Vermont Studio Center resident in writing, her poetry has appeared in The Raw Art Review, Lunch Ticket, Stone River Sky: An Anthology of Georgia Poems and others; and a short story appeared in Cricket. She is a self-taught, abstract artist who works in acrylic, oil and mixed media and her images have appeared in or been cover art for Critical Pass Review and Inscape Magazine. Her image “Woman on the Move” won the 2019 Art Contest for So to Speak: feminist journal of language and art. (lindawimberly.com)
Original painting by Pierre-Auguste Renoir.
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