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Impressions of Magritte

by Nancy Ames

His face offers hope ripening
like a big green apple when he
falls eagerly forward through
the door into her house, sees
there a table, an incongruous
arrangement of granite fruit in
a bowl, sees also some sorrowful
birds mistaken for lilies, their
feet fastened deep inside a vase,
their hopeless eyes, the tragic
helplessness of their wings, and
it all sets his teeth painfully on
edge, to be quite frank, you see.

As an artist, he was all ready to
fall in love but then he looked
up and saw a woman surprised, too
crudely formed out of pinewood,
only half painted, rooted deep
into the stone tiles of your floor,
flagrantly sucking power out of
the earth, one sly black-hole eye
deflecting sky.

So "ceci nest pas" a sincere smile
and this is not a lover`s kiss.


Posted on 04/17/2019
Copyright © 2019 Nancy Ames

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Glenn Currier on 04/27/19 at 04:52 PM

I still remember seeing an exhibition of Magritte, I forget in which museum. And I specifically remember the pipe. I love the way you bring his work alive in your poem. Thanks so much Nancy.

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