Jan Oskar Hansen Poet Blank verse

Rubbed Out

Rubbed out 

I stopped at a low stonewall
on my slow progress  
saw before me a landscape painting, 
ten sheep and twelve lambs.

I thought who that painter might be, 
a sudden blur in the air, 
when the picture cleared there
was a mare and her foal

five sheep had disappeared; 
the painting looked better,
but I didn’t linger, 
I wouldn’t like the artist to 
think I was a part of his picture     
wanting to erase me
for the sake of the prettiness.
of the landscape

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