The sculptor bid me grieve.
So, I contemplated death
In all its diverse ways
How I feel when they leave
Casting my glance below,
Memories of my mother
Flooded my heart’s hidden home.
I allowed tears to flow
Contemplating my dad,
Brought me to many years back
The pain of a little girl
A wordless kind of sad
The grieving will see me
Through the veil of forlorn tears
As they journey through the years
In a cemetery.
Bidding farewell but only for now.
© Carol Campbell
So – for today’s poetics – pick a sculpture, preferably a human form, and do one of the following:
- Take on the persona you imagine this being to have and write as if you were the person, telling us your “back story,” or what you’re thinking during the posing, or tell us what’s happening to you in the time after the sitting — whatever you share, do it in the voice of that sculpture.
- Or, be the artist having a conversation with the subject, either before, during or after the sculpting.
- Or, be the sculpture and suddenly come to life now – talk to us!
In other words, in some way, breathe life into the sculptor’s subject!
❤ ❤ ❤