artist, poetry, rhyme, Uncategorized

Diary Entry 2

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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’.

Would

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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