Stand there, he told me.
Look up, try not to move.
So I stood there
while he painted me in half-profile,
and looked at the sky
and tried not to move.
I tried to think of nothing,
but (you know how it is)
the thoughts come into your head.
So I looked at the sky and remembered.
Tears in my eyes?
No, it was just that the sky
was very bright that day, I remember.
I remember a lot of things.
Some of them I’d prefer not to.
Comments about this poem (Artist’s model by Paul Hansford )
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