Joan

Honfleur, 1874

So
I see their easels at the water
from the window
I know his is not -as his is never - with them
Seven years I've watched them sadly,
watching with them, understanding

Joan, my head hurts, my head hurts
Joan, I must close the curtain

They will come back in the evening
See the way the sky is changing!
Can you see the colors?,
He would say to me
Well, of course I see the colors
Sea is silver, red, and white and -
No! You don't look! You don't see!
No, you don't look, you don't see

In the squares of sun
slanted on the floor,
slanted over my feet, Joan
This is how he painted me
A halo round me - like Our lady!
Bathed his brush in sun
and blurred my faults away

Joan, the sunlight! The Sunlight
joan, I must close the curtain