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This poem was composed in response to prompt #99 on ReadWritePoem: set a dramatic scene, but leave some mystery. My poem below is ekphrastic, inspired by a painting of a scene in which much is unknown.
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MORNING NEWS, 1915 (after the painting by Helen Turner)
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Over her bare shoulder, no headlines
can be seen, bad news printed as finely
as good news, center pages no wider
than her linen tablecloth, than the side
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of their square table left vacant after he
stood up, took one last sip of coffee,
blew back a farewell kiss, reached
with his free hand for a brief case.
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But now that he’s gone for the day,
which kind of story does she favor?
She’s still in white, her red robe draped
over a chair, one slipper off, a nearby vase
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revealing a few fresh scarlet roses.
Is it war or love, that color, her posing?
Whatever the drama, she already knows
its ending: the wedding of close neighbors –
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new love not yet tested — or old betrayals
at the bank, or a faraway war, evil and
heroes in black & white photos, and on all
home fronts, one loyalty without equal.
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by Therese L. Broderick
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(an artist’s statement about this poem appears as the first comment below)
