The quiet in paintings... more quiet
than whisper of hand and horsehair.
Sound of small waves, the patter
of rain. Vanishing point (silent).

Something labors at the perpendicular
of the planes... where sweet cacophony
of vernal streets extends coarse (funny)
tendrils in a chorus of counterparts

the sea-depths of the air beckon
into tremulous reaches (embodied
cloud-light). And the painter's eye
steadied so (calm reconnaissance

of lion-glance) edges toward
molten serpentine... where
a principle (urbane particulars'
hewn symmetry) is its reward :

dead reckoning of dancers in a round,
or masons of a bow-taut campanile.
Dread judgement of the Nine (final).
Eagles' mantle (burial mound).

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