Stepping into the museum is an invitation into the imagination of others. I pause in front of a large canvas. Inside the FRAME there is a world. I EXIST in my own time and space, and now, standing in this museum, I  wonder what it would be like to step into this other world. I imagine how it would be to be BELOW those trees, to watch the mill WHEEL turn, to watch the women washing clothes along the banks of the river. I image how it would be to DWELL down the lane, no doubt in a cottage, just beyond the view of the painting. I sink onto the bench, provided for contemplation and lose myself a while longer. I surrender to the artist’s view, a welcome escape from my own.

Georg’ann

I buy the discounted rosé
for the color play on the label.
Velvety cream with a watercolorish circle
of golden peachy pink hues
the SHADE and shape of Sunday’s sunset.
Bright warm ball hovering
over the silhouetted tree line
at the end of the corn field.
A glint of coral reflecting off a silver silo
adds dimension to the bucolic scene.

This humble wine now holds an expectation
to be the taste of sunset, chilled.
Ah, Italian life in the midwestern MODEL.
There is no DEVIL in these details,
my bloodline is to DWELL in sensual attentions.

Heather