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Possibilities of Identity in a Winter Portrait

I paint rain into the picture, drop Rachmaninoff behind the scene, heard just over the edges (ÉlÊgie in E-flat minor), or I plant begonias, orange and white, observe sway-branch breeze wipe the scent beneath his nose, or I open his mouth to taste eucalyptus bark, scrape his tongue, or maybe flicker his 8-mm childhood slightly behind the silhouette of his head, or perhaps when he moves a finger, eyes it wilfully to touch his own skin, goose pimple light in his eyes, mindless alive, and rises to his feet, I sit back, outside of the downpour, and watch him run off behind a few trees, leaves heavy and bent with raindrops, as the piano drowns in the encroaching silence of my closing eyes, a rest, a weightlessness, a color something like diffusion, or a far voice. Michael Dwayne Smith

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Profile for Riggwelter

Riggwelter #9  

Welcome to the ninth issue! Riggwelter keeps rolling on. This issue contains poetry, short fiction, visual art and experimental media by: Ji...

Riggwelter #9  

Welcome to the ninth issue! Riggwelter keeps rolling on. This issue contains poetry, short fiction, visual art and experimental media by: Ji...

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