Speaking of Chagall

(in response to¬†the Chagall painting¬†“Birthday”)

I brought you something
for your birthday, he said
hovering in air
head twisted to kiss her
as she walked away with his flowers.

How much do you love me?
she said coyly.

Why I’d bend over backwards
for you, he said.

Grounded, she accepted
his floating gesture,
her black eye wide with awe
to think of being loved that much.

…………………………………………

“Brevity is the soul of wit.”-William Shakespeare, Hamlet

I have tried to capture Chagall’s passion for play with my own interpretation. As this and the previous poem indicate, passion is mainly play whether it be with love or language.

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