poem written in response to this image ("Summer, The Meadow 1874") by Claude Monet
for online poetry class
Morning settles over the meadow~ the faint warmth of sun touches her skin, and the air smelling of dew and crushed stems. Grass sways in uneven patches, brushing her ankles with its cool, damp edges, cicadas buzzing like a low electric wire. The sky hangs low enough to warm her face~ a soft veil of heat and breeze. Clouds drift slowly like cattle in afternoon light A woman stands far off, her dress lifting slightly in the wind, the scent of wildflowers rising around her. And the whole scene breathes~ warm earth, soft wind, sun-thick air~ a moment held steady before it moves again.
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