Outside the half shut <br />shutters <br /> <br />I am sure <br /> <br />there must be a 'blue sky <br />made of raw cobalt' <br /> <br />but here <br />inside Vincent's bedroom <br /> <br />I am lost <br />in each stroke <br /> <br />of the brush that <br />created it <br /> <br />until an exquisite <br />little girl <br /> <br />abandons her <br />pushchair & Mummy <br /> <br />and toddles <br />in front of it <br /> <br />clambers behind <br />the protective rope <br /> <br />& so becomes <br />a part of it. <br /> <br />It is as if <br />she has entered <br /> <br />Vincent's bedroom <br />and finding him <br /> <br />(not there) <br /> <br />leaves <br />& leaves <br /> <br />the presence of <br />herself <br /> <br />fleshed into <br />the paint. <br /> <br />Art & <br />Reality <br /> <br />combining to create <br /> <br />what now for me <br />it will always be <br /> <br />LITTLE GIRL LOST <br />IN VINCENT'S BEDROOM.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/little-girl-lost-in-vincent-s-bedroom/
