After soleil levant
A new dawn rises with tabula rasa, then
water’s dappled by bold drop of sun, huge
as an apricot suspended in the purpled
skies, it’s corona laid aside in the clouds
for the passing of a small boat with father
and son rowing out from shadows of night,
the chiaroscuro of some dream better left
as lines, or short, sigillate brush strokes
cutting water, air, to let new light through.
No grisailles, just dark impressions
of painter and painting filling each other.
John C. Mannone has work in Blue Fifth Review, Peacock Journal, Gyroscope Review, New England Journal of Medicine, Baltimore Review, Pedestal, and Pirene’s Fountain. He’s been awarded a 2016 Weymouth residency, has three poetry collections including Flux Lines (Celtic Cat Publishing) and edits poetry for Abyss & Apex and other venues. He’s a retired physicist living near Knoxville, TN (http://jcmannone.wordpress.com)