“I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape. Something waits beneath it; the whole story doesn’t show.” – Andrew Wyeth
The rib cage of tomorrow,
bared to bones and
picked by beaks still dreams
of flesh to fill its void
of blood to fill the veins
fulfilled from hues of green,
a rainbow
more from breeze than sorrow.
Soil is seizures,
cramps of clay,
the meadow’s yet too shallow
to believe its roots
will swallow frost.
Picture of my own inspired by Andrew Wyeth
Margaret inspires us with the art of Andrew Wyeth at toads. Being late to the party I did a small little poem inspired by a quote of his. Due to the fact that his paintings are copyrighted I have processed a photo of my own to follow the poem.
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June 11, 2016
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Your poem is so like a painting, the imagery aligned in layers, the mood permeating the colour palette. It is a most singular reading experience, and I am very impressed with your photo landscape.
This reads beautifully, Bjorn.
Soil is seizures,
cramps of clay….. great choice of words.
The dream-like quality of this poem works well for the topic…I love the idea of the season not being able to image its next shift…beautiful work, Bjorn.
A wonderful take on the ethereal painting of Wyeth. Were I in the desert right now you would compel me to take the large volume of his prints that we have down there and peruse them, perhaps seeking a poem of my own. Wonderful poem, Bjorn.
The rib cage of tomorrow,
of flesh to fill its void
of blood to fill the veins
Powerful insistence to strengthen and give life to future longings and yearnings. Great lines Bjorn!
Hank
I can feel the anticipation of life in this piece. I really enjoyed this..
“the meadow’s yet too shallow
to believe its roots” stunning lines Bjorn!
Wow…I feel your words brushstroke images.” The rib cage of tomorrow” I love that.