26 October 2019

By Philip Kuepper

As I watched,
women rowing became
an abstract painting,
as a scrim of haze
fell, a veil,
down the air.
Rose to meet it
blades of waves
that cut the air
like a painter’s knife
intersecting the blades of the oars.
All form faded to a blur:
air, waves, women, oars.
All became sponged
colors on the canvas
of the moment.

(11 October 2019)