Poem #21

Klee’s Curtain

With his seeing eye and tacit hand
Klee captured on canvas
the pattern and flow of fabric.

A curtain became an attic beauty
hinting at a story of unknown lives
behind its shielding folds.

Cloth warms as it breathes
through its ephemeral fibres,
offers more comfort than painted art.

Moved by this unmoving curtain
I refabrictated it in cloth.

11 thoughts on “Poem #21

  1. Awesome! And your poem gets to the heart of why those of us in the know love to work with fabric so much. I agree that you should exhibit these pieces together… Make sure you bring them those of us in the northern hemisphere, too!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s