Woman and Child (or High Fidelity)

Annette, this is an ekphrastic poem—hopefully for the theme category of the Triad contest. I am including the image, too.

The child wasn't real.
I moved my sleight of hand.
The slow cruise of late afternoon
chased aquamarine shadow to the paneled corners.
The photographer told me not to look at the camera.
Could I say I wished the child was mine?
Posing on the floor was a kind of art.
The child's feet broke my heart.
My left thigh was numb.
I pretended to move a piece of the puzzle.
Each piece was a tiny artifact.
My womb was a stubborn satchel.
The prop of my arm grew tired.
The photographer wooed me with the veracity question.
I was beguiled by the hand-knotting.
Already the girl practiced the downward gaze.
I had it down—
probably why the photographer
chose me.

 

Maja & Elodie by Sharon Lockhart, Milwaukee Art Museum