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Thursday, May 26, 2011

Still Life With Compotier (Cezanne)

















#14

If in fact the apple shadows
The peach on the blue tablecloth
To make it seem riper, does
The empty goblet bend both
Starched napkin white and darkness
From a draped corner of the room
To evoke residue in a chalice
Or lateness in an afternoon?
The apples, green in the silver
Tray, are bronzed, like a bronze pear.
The answer to light is color
And fruit illuminate the air—
But only here inside that frame,
Where apple replaces its name.

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