I see you in outline,

as a sketch of mere form and

intersecting lines of void,

composed of dark greys 

and blacks angled

with presence, but

no life yet that speaks 

beyond some shapes,

except in mind’s surmise.


Then the pause of the brush,

and the hesitation, till details warm

come in turns and curves built with

colours mixed with life;

and then upon this sacred cloth

is formed the shades and hues

that bring you here as 

person fixed but unfinished,

as I now gaze upon the scene

and think of you unknown but

captured for a time.