December 2016
While my three children were young, I wrote just enough poetry to give me an inkling that I might have an aptitude for it, but I wasn’t brave enough to throw my earning potential aside until my family was grown and I’d worked for a number of years. As time went on, I came to regret not having devoted myself to writing much earlier in life. The “now or never” decision came about 20 years ago—my late-in-life career—and the process of creating a poem still gives me enormous satisfaction. I’m gratified that my poetry is widely published in the small press and equally gratified by becoming part of a larger community of writers. For my publishing credits:
lindamfischer.com
lindamfischer.com
Ginger Jar and Fruit
after the painting by Paul Cézanne
More salient than the soft contours
of ripened fruit, Cézanne’s orbs
ride like intrepid horsemen leaning
into their stirrups, heraldic colors ablaze:
the blush of a pear, burnished peaches,
apples splashed in emerald and red.
The arc of a ginger jar dissolves
into an innocuous scrim of grays
and brown. The table, draped in a ruche
of creamy linen, tilts toward you
as if to say: Here, fruit for the taking!
©2016 Linda M. Fischer
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