Melissa prompted us this week with some Marc Chagall paintings at dVerse Poets, offering that we write a poem for one of the four choices she included.
I went with La promenade (The Promenade) – 1918.
The Girl At The Fair
She arrived in a whirl and twirl of her own breeze
made of silken whimsy
children’s smiles
and the weight of the world reversed
when she took his hand
and ran away with his fingers
so
he would ask them back
and they danced and swam
in her air
ancient fish looking for land
where
he held her like a balloon on the midway
at the fair
never to dare
let her
away
lest she float and float to a vanishing point
through her twirl and whirl
of wind parted clouds
back to the heavens
surely
from whence she came
and he would be left with
only
unreliable words to explain
his tale and his heartbreak
Frankenberry's Attic 
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