by Berthe Morisot (1869)

Masts and ropes tie the sky
To white walled lives and great ancients surrounding
The borrowed-blue bay

Callously, we discard the Sun
And seek our light in low brown walls
The walls are murky, the light only difference

These quilted walls are angel-graced
A cotton beauty who casts her gaze
Behind the wall and on the water
Upon the secreted delight

Large bellies, black and fleeting,
Boats have landed on Lorient
And deliver weary voices over the quay
To be felt but heard by her and me

I see Lorient and all, barring one but
She disregards all, as well the sunset
Her parasol made pinker than pinker skin
Upon which settles yarn-dark hair

And though I see her,
Upon the water
Upon the wall
Flowered hair, downed spirit, blue lace, and leaned hand
A mystery is harboured in her Lorient

Written 5/12/2024