after The Wood Gatherer by Jules Bastien-Lepage (French, 1848–1884)
Oil on canvas
This is how age spites us
thinks the old man in a dark
mud-colored coat
with a forest on his back.
Wood carried horizontally
bends him.
He stares like an owl.
Eyes reflecting his consequential burden.
Meanwhile his granddaughter
in a chicory blue dress picks
flowers.
Her hair is the fire of fall.
A wisp of a girl, weightless
whimsical
could she float away?
Her hand scoops a young bud
as she blends with green turquoise grasses.
This painting drapes us with a cape
of time lying
across our cool shoulders curved
to protect our heart.
Amy Phimister
Judge’s Comment: