image by Heather Williams, on Pixabay
The Death of the Art Teacher
You loved to show me how to see the world,
how the endlessly divisible things
we spell by rainbow, insect, shark, all curl
inside the silver curves the graphite sings
against the paper’s possibility,
how light elides its own soft vanishing.
You bore my blinding inability
and drew me back toward the sun that rings
the triumph of what splinters, crumbles, fades.
I hear your heart, your heart’s ease echoing
along the galleries, among the glades,
through silences that time can never bring.
You are again the light below the door
Imaging what is in what is no more.
_____________________
Daniel Fitzpatrick is the author of two novels, a poetry collection, and a translation
of Dante’s Divine Comedy. His book, Restoring the Lord’s Day, is out now from
Sophia Institute Press. He is the editor of Joie de Vivre: A Journal of Art, Culture, and
Letters for South Louisiana, a member of the Creative Assembly at the New Orleans
Museum of Art, and a teacher at Jesuit High School in New Orleans, where he lives
with his wife and four children.
July 2024 issue
Love this unexpectedly uplifting poem:
"graphite sings
against the paper’s possibility" (and)
"drew me back toward the sun."