portrayed you perhaps like Julie Manet
seated, body turned slightly left (but sans
cat), your highlight hair combed back -- simple way
you like to wear it -- your delicate tan
silken-earth frame for your clear-river eyes,
their intense depth revealing your curved mouth --
a reluctant sad smile. He’d prove so wise,
welcome challenge of your knitted white blouse:
circular patterns meld with flower lace
caressing your breasts, veiled short sleeves gracing
gentle flex of your arms. No doubt he’d trace
background of emerald trees, embracing
your love for nature. Then his artist’s might
would blaze: saturate you with vibrant light.
Roger Armbrust
July 2, 2015
