Once Emerged from the Gray of Night, 1918 by Paul Klee from PaulKlee.net
Poem to Klee by David Michael Jackson
A poem for thee
my dear Mr. Klee
a poem for the music,
a poem for the art,
a poem for the poems,
Klee.
The sunset comes in poems of color
in notes of light
for they are the same
these colors,
these words,
these notes.
They are all the music from the church on Sunday
flowing from an old wooden building
where ladies wear ribbons
and the preacher’s words put old men to sleep as the children shuffle.
We are all in the grass, crawling toward the farmhouse.
We are the women speaking of Michelangelo.
We are the music that makes you slow down to see which garage it came from.
We are the child playing in the dirt,
my poet Klee,
my musician Klee,
my artist Klee,
and me.
by David Michael Jackson…..12/01/2019
