Poem: The Artist’s Paintbrush by Elaine Coyne

A simple sweep 

or staccato-like shower 

bring forth the power

of my creative ardor.

 

An urgent stroke renders 

the fleeting light passing into the night,

as the horizon line swallows 

the crimson sky and bids its goodnight.

 

Comma-like bursts, bold movements

blocky and stubby-- evening stars in the making…

my brush leaves its mark and my hands

           Shaking…

hoping to create something breathtaking.       

 

 

My line: “the horizon line swallows the crimson sky and bids its good night” was inspired by the following “Sunset” poem by Effie Lee Newsome:

 

Sunset 

Effie Lee Newsome, 1885-1979 (published 1923)   from Poets.org email, 8/8/21  

Since Poets have told of sunset,

What is left for me to tell?

I can only say that I saw the day

Press crimson lips to the horizon gray,

And kiss the earth farewell.