Sunday, July 31, 2011

in port

edward h. potthast in port


after sailing across seas
and oceans of the mind
the work
of washing
and painting
the hull of me
seems mundane
and yet also
necessary

every so often
i stop
and gaze deeply into
the rippled mirror
of my work
to admire its deliquescent form -
like so much melted glass

7 comments:

Reya Mellicker said...

Deliquescent? What a great word!

I gaze into the rippled mirror of your work every day. Every day I am the better for that experience. xx

The Weaver of Grass said...

I love that word deliquescent Steven - such a wealth of meaning in it.

steven said...

reya - it's on my all-time fave word list. i did a series of drawings and paintings years ago that i got to show at a small university gallery that i titled deliquescence. steven

steven said...

weaver - it's a sort of melding and melting and transforming in the way that i like to use it. steven

Tess Kincaid said...

Ah, the mundane washing and painting of the hull. A chore to embrace. Very nice, Steven. Thank you for the beautiful comment on my poem.

aguja said...

This speaks volumes to me, Steven, and is so cleverly wrought. I love the painting you have chosen to go with your poem.

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