Perspective


Claude Lorrain:  The Expulsion of Hagar

I didn't notice her at first.
I thought the picture merely spoke
of pity for the pretty one,
the concubine,
bound for the wilderness,
clutching her bread and child.
A pretty wilderness, but even so.
 
I’d almost turned to go.
Then, in the corner of my eye:
a buttery smile
high up in shadow on the balcony,
content to see those ringlets centre-stage
for one last time.
 
I feel her butter running down my chin.

Annette Volfing



If you have any comments on this poem,  Annette Volfing would be pleased to hear them.