Marc Simont
I knew you
only
on the page
wielded there
by lead
and I was standing
at the shelf
a new mother
then
wrapped in wonder
at the beginning
of books
for her
picking off spines
and putting them back
row after row
when found
your tree
your girl
with the blue
watering can
your catch-me cat
your pacing dog
your use
of lifted light
and as I peeled
the pages back
I found
the sentiment
of the soul
made perfect
in the simplicity
of sketches
by a boy
of Paris birth
(Nov. 23, 1915 – July 13, 2013)
TL