Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2018
What is it about the water?
Like misshaped tiles the ripples scatter;
shifting at every swift motion and quake,
staring back at a man lost in a reflective gaze
Lost in a pool of his own thoughts;
He recognizes the drowning body
that sinks deeper as his mind descends

Should he linger behind inches of safety;
or should he let himself fall into ponderous
depths of transparent glass;
Eyes closed, he lets go and joins his enemy,
like a sail his body floats, effortlessly.
"Portrait of an Artist (Pool with Two Figures)" by David Hockney
Written by
Please log in to view and add comments on poems