Looking At Cold
(from Claudia Drexhage’s painting…)
Cold and bleak like a hangman’s eyes,
The pallid landscape thrills,
Turquoise and lime;
Fronds in shivering wisps
Erupt like pyrotechnics, or a strafing
Of Passchendaele in war…
Cold and in thrall like my mother’s eyes,
The curious landscape chills,
Poised and sublime;
Trees in quivering whispers
Gush like fountains chafing
A winter’s sky, in awe…
Pete Ray
4th July 2021
A hangman’s eyes I imagine to have no warmth, or hint of it.
My mother’s eyes hinted at coldness and being in thrall to my father’s control.
The painting seems cold, with a hint of spring, perhaps…
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