Her journey winds down morning stairs
across an autumn room where bright haze
hugs a berry-burdened pyracantha. Sprays
of branches crossbar the glass, pall-bear
a web. Intrigued, she studies the Orphic care
of a spider as it tacks the outer threads,
spirals up ever larger circles and, then, spirals
down to crouch empty on its snare.
In idle moments of midday, she drifts back
to re-examine this fierce pursuit of art:
slumped wings now token the despair
of a half-dead offering. Hunchbacked,
a high priest scoops oily rainbow parts
towards a mouth twisted in mute prayer.
A quick note from the blog editor: This poem is currently being set to music by Jennifer Stock, and the recording of Art Lesson the song, for piano, soprano, and electronics, will be posted here in a few weeks.
