In Memoriam

On the Eve of Stopping The World to Get Off

December 12, 2013 

 

There were blocks, I remember.

Blocks and a myriad of colors laid at our feet

The night we painted the Moulin Rouge.

We were strewn with ladies in wild dresses,

men in top hats

Martinis of every size

Gentlemen of repute and standing

Women of the hall, dancing, legs extended,

Toward that cold Chicago morning we anticipated in only hours.

You and I we painted that hall

Drinks and food and operatic musings took us

Straight into Toulouse’s bosom

And I wondered at the vast landscape of your art

Your aspiration

Your sweet intuition as to the world of our play.

 

 

Later we painted churches, sidewalks, conversations

Rang in the new year somewhere near Wrigley

And talked of the future

In blues and reds

Amber, Ochre, Grey

And sometimes,

Like today

Shades of white.

 

 

-For Kevin Wall