Seer
Looking at a fallen branch
I see what appears to be:
Christ on the Cross.
Is my sister’s religious mania catching?
In Art Class I strip off the bark,
sand down and oil the wood.
A contorted pale body,
agonised bearded features,
eyes turned heavenwards.
But none of my classmates can see it.
“Abstract art, eh?” declares the teacher.
I photograph my artwork
on my phone
in various locations round our house
to find where it looks best.
Reviewing the photos later
something catches my eye
in the background of a shot
taken on the upstairs landing.
An indistinct pale shape
in Geraldine’s bedroom
visible through the half-open door.
Zooming in it looks like:
a naked torso,
a twisted head,
a smudge of beard.
Strange illusion, no-one was there.
After church next Sunday
the new curate
is introduced to my family,
shakes us all by the hand.
Charismatic pale face, dramatic beard,
eyes averted, avoiding Geraldine’s gaze.
Suddenly, I see him with no clothes on.
gosh – you always manage to produce something different – for me this is a bit like when you have had a dream and then you find yourself opposite the person in the dream and you can’t look them in the eye – this is a whole Mills & Boon book told in a poem!
Powerful images. Would the poem be weaker or stronger if you omitted every stanza’s last line except the last? Oh.. pedant alert… is ‘next Sunday’ foretelling the future, should it be ‘the following Sunday’? Or maybe you could omit ‘next Sunday’ and just leave it at ‘AFter church’…
Great surprise ending…