Corot at Ville-d'Avray

Before any site and any object, abandon yourself to your first impression.

                 John-Baptiste-Camille Corot

I imagine him looking, seeing,

caught up in the muted browns,

feeling the gentle arcs and sways 

of tree trunk and woman.  

Hearing whisper of wind, rustling leaves, and 

the back and forth call of pond dwellers

seeking companionship in the fading light. 

I picture him closing his eyes

imprinting upon lids the languid beauty

stretching before him, a ripe fruit 

to be plucked and eaten, sweet juice dribbling down his chin.

I see his eyes open and, with impatient and eager haste,

he pries open his kit, taking brush to color

in a mad hatter’s dash to capture what is fleeting.

So present in the moment, he doesn’t notice 

the flit of a nearby hummingbird

or the first flick of the fireflies as they begin their dance.

Published in Nine Muses, May 2020