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| Poppies in Rain Acrylic on Paper by me, Mary Stebbins Taitt |
From the Dark Centers of Flowers
by Mary Stebbins Taitt · 129 words
Sometimes, I journey into darkness
while every shadow harbors a malevolent bat
whose wings reach out, sticky as spider webs
to trap me.
while every shadow harbors a malevolent bat
whose wings reach out, sticky as spider webs
to trap me.
It’s a lovely day, friends say, trying
to cheer me. The sun shines; its warmth
caresses my skin, but in the shade, bats gather,
gnashing their teeth as their claws grow pointy.
to cheer me. The sun shines; its warmth
caresses my skin, but in the shade, bats gather,
gnashing their teeth as their claws grow pointy.
When I bend to smell the flowers, the bats
ambush me. They pour from the center
of each blossom like flying monkeys,
like a plague of locusts.
ambush me. They pour from the center
of each blossom like flying monkeys,
like a plague of locusts.
When they eat holes in me, I am moth-eaten;
I am Swiss cheese. I am lace curtains
blackened by coal-fired ovens. I am despair.
The sun shines through me.
I am Swiss cheese. I am lace curtains
blackened by coal-fired ovens. I am despair.
The sun shines through me.
I am a pattern of light.
Mary Stebbins Taitt
120329-1642-1st
120329-1642-1st
location: Detroit, San Francisco
photosource: me (acrylic painting) (detail from "the Misunderstanding")
