Why would anyone want to look
at the blue backs of folks with umbrellas?
What is the artist trying to say?
Could she be saying, “I can transform a canvas
into people and parasols. I can make you
remember the time you stood waiting
for the bus in the blue rain of Boston?”
The poet would have you remember the joys
and tragedies of your life with inked words.
The visual artist takes you there with pasty pigments
makes you “remember the rain with its bundle of roads.
Taking all its roads.
Nowhere.”