The limber late light
travels across the ridge
where the bear climbed.
Even with my head thrown back
I still can’t take in the tops
of the tall pointed trees
up there. A friend’s death
is flickering in and out
of my mind the whole time
I’m watching the yellow binding
weave slowly, lower and lower
down the slope of dusk-deepening
green and I expect the bear
to reverse his way,
track back down
to us, to give
a faster swipe of darkness
to the day’s last lit edge
draining any hope I had
that this dying
would not happen
again.
–Rebecca Weiner Tompkins
Singers can’t sing, acrylic, oil stick, tape and gel medium on canvas, 30″ x 22″, 2010, by Joseph O’Neal
Sensitive Skin 12 available here in PDF format here for just $4.95, or get the full-color print version via Amazon and select bookstores.
Drawings Poetry