I took it
out again,
set it up
on an easel,
sure that
I wanted to
finish like so
many other
times.
I started it
long ago,
the citrus tones
and asian style
reminded me
how deeply
I had felt.
Shadow Man
and his guitar,
the beauty
of the
Willow World,
silent and in
pain, the two
of them
unsure how to
carry on.
The layers of
painted over
versions of them
would tell
the real tale
if
they could.
At first
they had looked
and longed
for each other
across canvas,
maybe he
more
than her
but still...
Then hurt,
Shadow began
to leave,
and the geisha
watched
sad,
unable to be his,
a tear
as she watched
him go.
Later,
she is painted
in white-
in mourning-
but her
back is turned
to him. She looks
back at the
castle
where she lives
as royalty,
he climbs
the same hill,
his progress
slow
and unsteady.
I would that
I could finish it,
I am unable.
I get it out
and set it
on easel
again,
on this day
you are wed,
and I look
at it.
I look at
you
I look at
me
at the way
I would have
things be,
and I wish
I could have
been more
graceful
in the letting go,
I lay aside
my brush
but I leave
the painting.
It remains undone,
but I will never finish
and it will always remain.
