a golden shovel after Wendy Xu’s tiny palace

by Danielle Page

breathe into me all
that you once knew, of
pottery and porcelain, this
brush stroke and this line takes
its shape just so, master place-
ment of figures and marvel, inside,
at the marbling of hues on skin, a
detail lost on ceramic, how mysterious
the vibration of each color tiny
appears on canvas, each a vibrant palace.

the business you so love
collapses, the press threatens
your livelihood, undoes my keep, to
survive I paint fans that tear
too easily and color engravings, it
must all come down.

i mix asphalt to build
my masterpiece, it breathes into me.
hung in a darkened gallery, a
bright stirring occurs, spurring new
delight of sensuous one-
ness in strokes of pigment, in
the hand and heart in its place
i am one with the woods of
fontainebleau, explaining
art is the embodiment of why.

Danielle Page

Danielle Page is a truth-teller, writer, and educator. When she’s not reading up on composition theory, she’s scribbling in her Moleskine journal, hiking a mountainous trail, or entertaining newfangled ideas. Her work has appeared in The Whale Road Review, Calla Press, Poetry Pacific, The Raven Review, Celestite Poetry, and elsewhere.

_{Artist: Ishita Banerjee}