for barbara voltmer
the narrow and elongate window,
frame within frame,
makes the outside world
a dead life of the living,
behind the still life of
plate, bowl, fruit, pitcher
on the dresser.
the vase of flowers on the windowsill,
a little to the right of center,
constitutes a fine transition
back and forth between
the wood of trees and that of furniture,
the growing and decaying all here
stopped in time,
shuttered in shadow,
draped in a brown study of
late afternoon/approach of night.
Originally published in Cider Press Review, Volume 1.
