Unphotographable, Part Two
This is a photograph I did not take
Of an old man mopping floors:
From overhead, this painter
Smears reds on antiseptic canvas,
A custodial Cotán, he tends
The stilled life of ventricle flowers.
With every stroke,
The diluted blossoms fade
Until little remains
But the hush of ghosts
Carrying home another quieted pulse.
This poem © Gabriel Gadfly. Published Oct 25, 2009
