The Spectators


New poem for you...

The Spectators

Bearden’s card players

In some approaches

Fluctuate from Cézanne’s

In Cézanne

All three guys

Intensely stare

At their

Playing cards

Their playing cards

Are their

Best global

In Bearden card

Gamers stare

At their

Playing cards


The 0.33

Vacantly stares

Out toward us

But not looking

At us

His cards

Flat at the desk

Does he have a awful

Hand or is he wondering


His father’s imminent death?

In Cézanne

The spectators

Pay no interest

To the game

Stare off

Musing on

Their very own lives

In Bearden

No spectators

A waitress

Brings a tumbler

Of red Wine

Possible pleasure

However in Bearden’s

More colorful end

No one interacts either

All are misplaced

In their very own mind.

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