Turning Away
I stand in front of my father's work;
How I look for myself and bring my story
And still it is not heard. Nothing here
To tell me what to believe. Nothing
But color, shapes he has seen,
Taken for meaning. Frames, a roomful
Of what was done without me. Once a man
And woman lay under the many stars
In a moment of one particular
Over another, which becomes the way
Of the world, which is why he left
Again and again, which is how she kept me
Until it was time. With all I have
I approach each painting. If I stare long enough
Something begins to move. If I look away even then
The image refuses to leave; wherever I turn,
Always in the middle of all that white.
Copyright © Roger Hadden | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment