Somehow this ekphrastic poem seems like a wintery one. Perhaps the huddled figures give that impression. And though I don’t know the painting it refers to, it stands alone as a poem. I love the ending especially.
The Park
A figure in a kimono or a robe so lush it too seems foliate
Stands apart from two other figures similarly dressed
But (the two) huddled closely together & moving off the sheer
Right edge of the canvas
& the solitary figure remains oddly hesitant & indistinct
& pensive although
Perhaps she is simply realizing that she does not wish to go
Where all of the others wish to go
David St. John
from The Last Troubadour: New and Selected Poems (Ecco/HarperCollins 2017 © David St. John)
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