chagall backdrop

Though her mind was intricate inlay
she refused to allow it
to pave the way,

so took roundabout steps
instead.

She’d dance barefoot on cold mosaics
that hid spirals, initials
and pentagrams,

set in black-white tiles,
really fine gray matter.

She ushers me in
an Escher-like place,
we forever return to the top
on descent,

’round the square,
where the monuments stand
tall to commemorate
what we don’t know

since the placards are old
and faded, but penned
in foreign ornate,
script of fine gold-leaf.

And then we’re on
a dusty path
beaten out
from the edge
of her towns.

She stands
in bold relief
against the fading
horizon

haloed by firefly
and reflected glow
of my exuberant awe

to be with her
in this special place

alone and so far
from home.

© Chagall, 2013