A Poem a Day (653): NaPoWriMo Day 22 - The art of drawing

 
Day 22 
 
Prompt: this one comes from the poet and fiction writer Todd Dillard, who provided this idea on his twitter account a few months ago. The idea is to write a poem in which two things have a fight. Two very unlikely things, if you can manage it. Like, maybe a comb and a spatula. Or a daffodil and a bag of potato chips. Or perhaps your two things could be linked somehow – like a rock and a hard place – and be utterly sick of being so joined. The possibilities are endless! www.napowrimo.net

The art of drawing

It’s just a trick of the light,
this slight of moonscape paper,
the edges faded, jaded, kind of.
A stroke of charcoal pauses.
 
Reconsidered, his bland idea turns
on its side, snap-ricochets, becomes
a suspenseful thing of mystery,
a curve, a sigh, an artificial high.
 
She steps shyly into the empty scene
from out of it, finds life from nothing,
enters his heart as his pure imagination
finds her, scribbles in her loose curls.
 
A heart-shaped face, soft, full lips,
slightest touch, an upturn to her nose,
flash of pink across the cheekbones,
so high as to lend a paper cut.
 
She smiles and the landscape grows,
a woodland cross-hatched behind her.
Curves and lines, a crescendo in form,
lithe arms upraised, she dances alone
 
in this blown bubble she inhabits.
You can almost smell her, feel her,
the lightness of her walk, and then…
the music jars. An error, a smudge!
 
The artist’s hand reaches for correction,
rubs the foul point with the eraser’s edge,
but it streaks, ruins the silk of her dress.
A hard thrust, and it bounces off the wall.
 
He sits back, shoves the easel and scowls,
scanning the studio for his arch enemy.
Knocked, the charcoal drops and splinters.
From the wooden floor, an eraser chuckles.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, April 22, 2024