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donall-dempseyPoems
DUTCH SPRING I walk through the 16th century imperceptibly passing on into the 17th without even knowing I had done so and here are Dutch people staring at me wondering where I've come from. I look into their eyes long dead by now their painted faces gazing out of golden frames windows into all that's passed. Trying to remember Rembrandt saying '"...the light from other's minds..." And here is Saskia still asleep in a few brushstrokes. I tiptoe away an intruder into their long ago lives different yet the same as mine The Jewish Bride sad to see me go back into the bustle of Spring in the Amsterdam of now.
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May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 3:35 PM UTC
DUTCH SPRING
DUTCH SPRING I walk through the 16th century imperceptibly passing on into the 17th without even knowing I had done so and here are Dutch people staring at me wondering where I've come from. I look into their eyes long dead by now their painted faces gazing out of golden frames windows into all that's passed. Trying to remember Rembrandt saying '"...the light from other's minds..." And here is Saskia still asleep in a few brushstrokes. I tiptoe away an intruder into their long ago lives different yet the same as mine The Jewish Bride sad to see me go back into the bustle of Spring in the Amsterdam of now.
donall-dempsey
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donall-dempsey
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 3:35 PM UTC
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