~Sunday Poem

.
Despite the enormous evening sky 
spreading over most of the canvas, 
its moon no more 
than a tarnished coin, dull and flat, 
in a devalued currency; 

despite the trees, so dark themselves, 
stretching upward like supplicants, 
utterly leafless; despite what could be 
a face, rinsed of feeling, aimed 
in their direction, 

the two small figures 
at the bottom of this picture glow 
bravely in their carnival clothes, 
as if the whole darkening world 
were dimming its lights for a party.

by Linda Pastan, “Carnival Evening”

Art by Henry Rousseau,
Carnival Evening, 1886, oil on canvas.