Monday, 26 February 2007

After Mauritshuis.

Everyday it must be like this:

Remember, before you forget.

Of course, Rembrandt knew this.

The brush has words for those motes.

For the spine cracks,

The binding dries

and the pages go missing.

The candle gutters

and the rose cankers.

Age deflates -

A slow puncture.

The dust unsettles

But the paint remains thick.

No comments: