This Date in Art History: Born 10 June 1880 – Andre Derain, a French painter.
Below – “Boats at Collioure”; “Effect of Sun on the Water, London”; “The Trees”; “Landscape”; “Music”; “Madame Derain in a White Shawl.”
by Lucy Adkins
He was traveling from Chicago
to Joliet, he said, on the expressway,
Old State Highway 59, when a
semi rollover caused a load of potatoes
to scatter across the road.
People stopped, pulled their
pickups and jeeps, their Chevy vans
and VW bugs off to the shoulder,
got out and dashed across three lanes
of traffic after Idaho russets and
Yukon Golds, reds and whites and yams.
I’d have understood if it were
a Brinks truck with flyaway tens
and twenties. But potatoes?
Perhaps it was the fact of
sudden bounty dropping down
in front of you, and like unexpected
grace, you must be grateful,
whatever it is that is given.
Below – “Under the Elms”; “Iced Coffee”; “July”; “Wild Roses”; “October Interior”; “The Mirror.”
A Poem for Today
“Naming the Trees”
by Bruce Guernsey
At the national cemetery in Gettysburg
all the trees have names,
both family and genus
on small brass plaques at the base of each
to let the visitor know
the kind of oak,
whether red, white or black,
and is this rock or silver maple
looking once like any other
burlapped ball of roots
when it was lowered to earth
those decades after the war.
Colorful names like Tulip Poplar,
Weeping Beech, Buckeye,
Sweet Gum and Gingko—
sounding like nicknames almost, these trees
from every region and state
with broad leaves or skinny,
shiny, dull, or no leaves at all
like the Eastern Hemlock,
but all, all with names every one,
no matter the size and shape
amidst the many anonymous
mute stones in their shade.
Below – Eric M Schiabot: “Battlefield Sunset at Gettysburg” (photograph)
Below – “Chinese Goldfish”; “Iris”; “Feast Of The White II”; “Black & White & Red”; “Ballet II”; “Blue Rose.”
A Poem for Today
by Danusha Lameris
Don’t you wish they would stop, all the thoughts
swirling around in your head, bees in a hive, dancers
tapping their way across the stage? I should rake the leaves
in the carport, buy Christmas lights. Was there really life on Mars?
What will I cook for dinner? I walk up the driveway,
put out the garbage bins. I should stop using plastic bags,
visit my friend whose husband just left her for the Swedish nanny.
I wish I hadn’t said Patrick’s painting looked “ominous.”
Maybe that’s why he hasn’t called. Does the car need oil again?
There’s a hole in the ozone the size of Texas and everything
seems to be speeding up. Come, let’s stand by the window
and look out at the light on the field. Let’s watch how the clouds
cover the sun and almost nothing stirs in the grass.
Below – Viktor Volkov: “Sunny field”