Adele Bloch-Bauer Ekphrastic Poem

Adele Bloch-Bauer Speaks to Museum Goers
(Portrait by Gustav Klimt)


Held tight by coins and the eyes
of quilted squares, I gaze beyond
the Van Gogh down the hall,
if only to ignore your pink
shirt and the apple browning
in your knapsack as you brush
past Whistler and Picasso. I’m
on the wall next to a better version
of myself enmeshed in fabric.
I still have beauty and red lips--
my black hair and stark white face
are faultless. My dress of golden spirals
and silver even now lures lovers.
Yet I weary of entrapment
in brocade, long for the glory light.
If I could choose life—
such incandescence!






Mary L. Westcott