1. Circles
circle eight
undulates, dearly. the yellow ring
shelters the blue, red snuggles
between like a family pet,
sweet daft thing. eights holds
a sore in the center, raw, peeping out.
circle two
a shimmying cell,
moss green nucleus isolates
from the goldenrod
yellow, the soft lilac. Each
turns at its own pace.
selfish little frenzies.
circle four
floats, despondent.
slips on the microscope
slide, indigo comes to focus.
chartreuse is stressed, wan,
about to lose definition, join
the tie-dye beneath.
circle ten
conquers, the tiny orange
pupil in a pool of ink,
on a bed of blood-red,
allows no discussion. comfort
in small confines.
*This is a response to “Farbstudie Quadrate, c. 1913”, one of Wassily Kandinsky’s
‘Circles’ paintings. For cohesive purposes, I interpreted this painting on landscape,
viewed from left to right but top-bottom.