It was a painting
\nof a Glengarry cow.
\nThe artist, who may be here tonight,
\nhad rendered it from the side
\nwith her own unique vision
\nthe way Van Gogh did.
\nPrice: $320, sturdily framed.<\/p>\n
Into the store
\nwhich has long since vanished
\ncame, breathless,
\na young woman.
\n\u201cI got your call.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d said the proprietor.
\nAnd pointed dramatically
\nto the latest
\nframed pencil-signed
\nevery-blade-of-grass
\nhyper-photographic
\nlimited edition reproduction
\nof a foraging racoon<\/p>\n
\u201cNumber 3407 of 4500\u2013
\na good number:
\nonly eight-fifty,
\nbeautifully framed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll take one,\u201d
\nsaid the breathless woman
\nand forked over $850
\nplus tax.<\/p>\n
The cow\u2019s udders
\nhung, massive,
\nreproaching the farmer
\nwho was elsewhere occupied.<\/p>\n
[podcast]http:\/\/riverwriter.ca\/podcast\/incident_in_a_framing_store.mp3[\/podcast]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
This poem was a candidate for my reading at the mayor’s celebration of the arts at Aultsville Theatre March 28, 2009. Continue reading