I agreed to meet him for lunch, finally
After weeks, months even years of requests,
We sat down at the table
Face to face,
Joe, the artist and me, the observer
I listened as he reminded me again and again
How's he's so taken with my beauty
Demeanor and elegance …

Embarrassed, I turned and stared out the window
I was drowning in all these verbal accolades
Making their way
Pronouncements of praise
I've heard them for years, always the same
And I wondered,
How much of this has to do really, with me
Is this what every artist sees?
The world through eyes influenced by shades
Textures and concepts,
Is this where true beauty lives?

We spoke of old times and shared memories
Thirteen years to be exact,
How the years have been kind
How he wished, so fervently …

Who is this man
This artist,
My friend

12/23/2007

Posted on 12/24/2007
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