artist, poetry, rhyme, Uncategorized

Diary Entry 2


January 23rd: *I return from having a conversation with Devin in Commons (roughly 12:00am). (Finished near 1:10am in the morning.) Inspired by Alice Neel’s ‘Nadya and the Wolf’.


Here, by the would of the hatch marked trees
near the rippled roots and the stippled bees
stands a watchman’s wolf near a muted maid
making sense of grief in a griefless glade.

In a haze of dun, her limbs fall still
as if to bend to the scend of chill.
Tracing states of mind on a slate of clay
the days discard while the potters play.

But what’s to make of a bottled year?
When hope is hung on a timeless tear?
That recalls the day when the lover leapt
from the sap-spun seat of the promise kept?

-Amy Struthers

-Image: Alice Neel’s ‘Nadya and the Wolf’ (1931)-


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