Tonight, the wheel of cheese arrives,
served on a Sterling silver tray.
A bounty, and a monthly feast,
hungry maidens lift forks
and knives into empty belly skies,
a glint off of their serving ware,
then a prayer to Master Fromager
before each youth cuts
their rightful square
to fill the soul’s empty plate.
A treasured portion,
but none are greedy;
each lass nibbles on the delicacy
and dreams of crossing curdled sea
to find release from grating need.
To find a place where
daffodils will grow,
without soil,
without seed,
free from moonlight shadow
and each cycle’s
coagulated lunacy.
© khartless 2022, All Rights Reserved
During Spring Break, my daughter and I had a much-needed Artist’s date and visited a local art gallery where we were both drawn to the works of Rosemarie Forsythe. After contacting her about the painting “Magic” she gave me her blessing to write about her piece. Tonight’s full moon before tomorrow’s feast provided the perfect inspiration. I do so hope this poem does her artwork proud.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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