Monet - haystack, hazy sunshine


Car fans roar
in the dust gravel
car park, punctuating
the sizzling stillness.

Everything burns under
the vast magnifying
glass, we are the cindered
paper of childhood.

Canadairs rush to the
smoke, their siren-droning
high in the congealed air,
spread thick by palette knife.

And golfers, always the
golfers, putting between the sprinklers, distant figures in a
Monet haze, undeterred.

By Ronnie Smith, June 2019