NaPoWriMo Day 7: Made by Matisse

 
Day 7 of the NaPoWriMo challenge at www.napowrimo.net.
 
Prompt: Today, we challenge you to write a kind of self-portrait poem in which you explain why you are not a particular piece of art (a symphony, a figurine, a ballet, a sonnet), and use at least one outlandish comparison and a strange (and maybe not actually real) fact.

 
Made by Matisse
 
I have not the grace of the ballet,
pirouetting among sleek swans
posed in my lace pink tutu,
adorned with a trail of glittering stars.
I do not yearn for the spotlight,
the crowd, the roar, the applause.
 
When the curtain rises, I am not there.
I am backstage in the shadows,
treasuring my anonymity as I roam
soundless and unnoticed, ordinary,
watching each production in private,
my own personal reflection.
 
Each dancer has their own humble story,
away from the lights, flowers and applause.
Perched on the edge of a tin bath,
leg up on the bar catching a conversation
or sat down on a rug washing their feet,
it is only a scene that Degas can tell.
 
I am more like The Snail,
the shifting shapes of primary colour,
ever in motion and twist
across an expanse of empty white space,
always pursuing this something other
ever so slightly out of reach.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, April 24, 2025