Artist's Block Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

The cool fall breeze
Plays with the turquoise cloth
Draped carelessly over my window

Another layer of faded net
Waves just as gently.
My guitar touches the purple chair
Half hidden by silky scarves and golden cloths
A baseball cap sits jauntily on a small TV set
Unused and dusty.

A deep dark rose peeks
From atop the giant blue refrigerator
A relic from a previous tenant
Purple and white artificial flowers
Sit in their frozen silkness
In a broken white basket
Exactly as they did the year
I found them in an alley

Jewelry carelessly tossed
On velvet and silk remnants
Waits for my neck and wrists
A thin scarf of a color
I can only call mandarin
Holds the dark brown necklace
From an ethnic street salesman
It never hung right

The turquoise cloth hangs limply on the wall
And my mother's beautiful profile
(Now sepia or umber)
Smiles from a faded sheet of fax paper

Blue moon images upon the wall and ceiling
Watch, but gave up waiting

For the paints, so many lined against the wall,
Each cased as little bottled dreams
And hopes look palely to the distance

They rest, for my hands are not ready yet
A fragrant cream sits on the table
And the bottle of perfume a hopeful lover brought
They wait for my twisted hands to touch them
But I am not ready
To paint, to pamper or to love

I look toward the window
And watch as a cool fall breeze
Plays with the turquoise cloth.