I have a poem up in the latest Ekphrastic challenge. The painting was this Berthe Morisot. Thanks to Alarie Tennille for choosing Weeds.
You can read all of the selected poems here.
This is the second poem I wrote to the prompt.
The name for despair is widow
More is lost than a lover, a father,
a way through the teaming city
built for men,
I lose a shield against misery,
a future for a girl child,
a cushion against cold pavement stone.
River flows golden in the evening sun,
pours over grey slate, colour of pigeons
in the soft light,
and I wish for wings to follow you,
watch the shoulder blades of the child
for their fledging.
Perhaps there will be more,
something of a life to be lived in this golden air,
not simply the dull dragging of the gutter.
The city of men laughs,
bright even beneath the clouds,
full of your absence.