. . .—on a painting by Jack Braudis
. . .Your slope is russet and graceful; seems soft.
. . .It is. I see it echoes the grace of your gunnels, stem to stern.
Boat:. . .
. . .We approach your still grace, having been upon water the day.
Land:. . .. . .
. . .Who is that with you, the who with articulating sticks?
. . .He rows, he brings me to you to lie in your shade.
. . .He imagines the sky would be good to gaze into
. . .with you beneath his back; our painter has
. . .rendered us true and sure & his clouds
. . .follow the breath of wind as they must
. . .But I’m confused, what painter?
. . .I am real and true and so is sky.
. . .Yes, and so is he and so am I.
Jim Culleny, 11/16/22
Painting by Jack Braudis