As I Flee In Disguise Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

The words came together,
and stretched on the frame

Their meaning spilled over,
as paint in the drain

The canvas so porous,
the easel divine

The curtains blew outward,
faces calling in mime

The streets all a-chatter,
it was Paris in spring

And striving to look busy,
the most important of things

Looking up at my window,
above the tannery so high

A shadow stared back,
—as I flee in disguise

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June,2016)