Poem by Anne Brudevold

Photo by Anne Brudevold



A moment caught

afternoon,
he’s playing saxophone in the garden
Orpheus, evoking the late green of afternoon

at his feet in the Smurf pool
the baby’s plump as sun
she’s watching a hovering dragonfly
with terror and desire, old games
old as the waves of the sea, or the splashes
of the water in the Smurf pool

man and baby in this instant are given to myth
behind them shadows in the trees
graze like cows
the cows have eyes like meadows
the meadows explode into stars
An invisible wind pervades the moment like a drone
like sepia perfume
nostalgic, its seeds
bloom