Elegy With Sarong #1 Poem by albert geiser

Elegy With Sarong #1



Her paintings of sarongs I'm going to see

will be there for two months,

I think, at Lake Of The Clouds

Arts. I heard this in the news: Layers died last week.

Native Brown Bear got studied thoroughly.

It has been exonerated. The Killer Brown

has been exonerated, according to the news.

According to some searching I find out the layers

are just mist...

Paintings by the girl are hung

around the den.

Her mother uses it as the favorite

of my wrongs.

She paints bears and she is a rising

Mars. The mother brown bear ate spoiled food we had.

We left that food out in saran wrap.

I am unwrapping in the layers of mist

unrolling in the folds of rayon.

The girl's mother hated that sarong

that people on the lake gave

to the young artist before the lake died. And no one

denies giving her the sarong

and her paintings of bears and of sarongs

are with her at the opening at the Lake Arts tonight...

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