Nude With Oranges
She walks into a room of titian walls,
Peels off her silky wrap. Her marigolds
Have dropped their petals on a rusted pail.
An oriole distracts her from the fruit
She’s peeled and sectioned on a copper plate.
Perhaps Château d’Amboise is where she found
Cezanne, or was it Soto’s lines that made
Her dream of coral flames in citrus trees?
The pumpkin of her rug, her marmalade
Cat have carroted the room, and yet she’s
Sick with longing for a salmon moon to
Fill this evening’s sunny melancholy.
Alone, unclothed upon her ocher couch
She wonders if the dimpled fruit’s too much.
--S.K.
 |
| Reclining Nude With Oranges by Rose Henry |
3 comments:
Thank you for reading and commenting on my poem.
"Nude With Oranges," refers to the different colors of orange I thought of while writing the poem. I did not mention the word "orange" within the poem, but hoped to evoke it with images of the color orange. You understood that, and I'm glad your close reading of the poem let you see those colors.
I'm partial to blank verse sonnets because I'm not forcing end rhymes, except for the couplet at the end, and that allows me more freedom.
I don't remember if the link on Chateau d'Amboise included the information that it was the first Chateau that featured "l'orangerie" in France. Even before Versailles famous garden.
From Wiki's page on Versailles: "In France, the first orangerie was built and stocked by Charles VIII of France at the Château of Amboise."
Very fun... loved it...
Post a Comment