(Acrylic, mixed media and oil —
by Deborah Treliving)

It's just a square, a window
with a rock like frame
in a white wall smeared lilac,

but, such memories

are tucked in there.

Rothko has visited
to breathe his weight
into the darkness.

Here lives a square of night
that I once painted, but
with a moon and pollarded tree

when I was lighter

in heart and body.

Here rests my wine-scented nights
with summer balls,
moth and blossom.

Here is a piny night in California,
or freezing sky with a stone comet
measured from a Devon village,

or an ink of an African night
with snakes in the grass
and dogs on the streets;

These are some darks
from a thousand, glazed violet,
where midnights grew velvet.