Hanging Art

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With full knowledge

of its weight, made heavy

By its gilded frame,

Requiring strong wire

Thick nails, to secure it

In place—level—solid

Upon a wall of plaster

Chipped, repainted in layers

Colors upon colors thick.

We used our steady eye

A skill, a tool, to drive

Guided anchors into

The unstable surface

Occasionally…….. the painting

tilted—lay crooked—off-center.

We would straighten it

With a measuring eye……..

The very eye that notices

The sun to see, to detect

Slow dust movement settling

Made up of our combined skin

Dancing in beams that hit

The painting at angles………..

Pieced together, faster than belief

Into joined frozen images

There…

We began to recognize patterns

These patterns are reflections

Of the painting itself………

So heavy upon a fragile wall

(above postcard by Leo, 1920)

(To see how a poem is constructed, click here)

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7 Responses to Hanging Art

  1. zoolonaudio says:

    I clicked the link and was nearly lost in the cleverness of the final piece. Brilliantly I wasn’t lost, your fine words rang out.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Just Joan says:

    A garage sale? Really? I was reading something entirely different into this, like, how a particularly heavy work of art would require care and calculation in the hanging. Eyeballing it seemed a bit cavalier for a gallery, but… who knew it was you, hanging a piece on your own wall? Thanks for sharing the inside info and earlier drafts, showing us how you shaped what the Muses handed you. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  3. What a poem, Elan. ♥

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Rae Longest says:

    You’ve captured something and captured a moment as well.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Marsha says:

    I love the way you mold the mundane into something new and fresh as if we are seeing the dusty painting for the first time. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

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