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Listed details & the fantasy (from a photograph)
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to Phan Quỳnh Trâm
She sat alone
in the depths of winter
the outside world was fading away like a puff of smoke
at a silent old brick corner
sunlight and leaves
had just covered the frame of a painting
leaning against the wall
with feet on chair
she sat quietly as a statue
while music was filling the air
only the eyes were running over the words
the horizontal and vertical lines of bricks
were emphasized by black
after the death of graffiti
the walls were blooming with some of beautiful brick petals
located in a secluded corner that tantalized the senses
it was just like a vivid oil painting
an empty bottle was left alone
on the wooden table with a hint of solitude
winter disengaged on warm clothes and leather boots
with the fleeting touch
time nestled into the desires
and scattered sunlight on canvas
she was still sitting there
at a contemplative corner
on a sunny day of July
some of my musings may seem a bit vague
I wondered how a real-life scene could step into an oil painting
but time never described anything grudgingly
such as when a small corner created intimacy
in the vast spaces
it spread the passion of latent vitality
even now
lonely
motionlessly
in this oil painting
she still radiates happiness
as if she has got rid of feeling cold and empty
the sun shone on a hidden smile
as she engrossed in reading
the wind came rushing out of those pages
the images of thoughts flew across her eyes
and words crashed to the ground
while I was thinking about something such as mantra
or dimpled cheek
half of winter’s gone
in an unexpected gust of wind
June, 2014
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