An ekphrastic poem, inspired by Peter Knox’s painting, Erolla.

White
The crowd gather
Amidst the chaos
they become invisible

What you can’t see
you can feel
they are there

You may detect
an outline or two
if you step to one side

They will let you see
when they want you to see

Red
The paths they take to get here
are convoluted
Superimposed
they form a map no cartographer could hope to read

Blood flows along the channels
aqueducts of hemoglobin
carrying life to the four corners
occasionally pooling at the edges

Yellow
Arms outstretched, she cries
Her silence does the screaming

Pink
‘Jackson Pollock was here’

Blue
Calm beneath everything
the sea

Glimpses of emerald and sapphire
from way up high

fade to grey
where water fades to ice

Sun
A ray of light
illuminates the goddess
from within

for a moment

Now she is gone—
but what you can’t see
you can feel

(28 October 2016)