Silver – stanza 22

A trip to the gallery went nowhere, proved nothing
I wasn’t even sure he was trying anymore
Going through the motions, starting to despair
In part because the plastic arts, painting, sculpture
Take the longest of the arts to discover, getting out
Into view, gallery space, fairs, coffee shops
Don’t come easily even for someone rising above
The usual, penetration simply takes more time
But he had to go, to explore, to keep his ear
To the ground, pulses and heartbeats
Talk to the artists, they all know the artsy
Speak with the gallery owners and patrons
They know where the talent is rising
They can smell the money hidden within
Wandering the small exhibition, Malinov
Peered into the past, casting his eye
Over the long litany of influences
Borne of old friends who struggled and starved
A trip down memory lane, writ new in styles
Arising in new worlds of futures past
He trades words and coffee for the clue
He sought; everyone was abuzz with ballet
A show, not on the calendar, until now
Was showcasing international talents
And a relatively unknown local girl
Risen suddenly, in the last six month
To fame, not a girl, a grown woman
Well past the age when stars are born
You simply had to see her to believe her

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, fiction, literature, novels, personal, poetry, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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