Refuge
"My dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed - my dearest pleasure when free."
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Portrait on the wall
His daughter when she was young
Big smile on her face
Now grown up married with kids
Living thousand miles away
Picture on his desk
Intricately silver-framed
He and his three kids
Must be twenty years ago
Keepsake from happier times
On the mantelpiece
Gilded antique ormolu
A gift from his son
A very special present
On his sixtieth birthday
Atop the fireplace
Vincent’s starry, starry night
A copy of course
A joint project with his wife
In a paint-wine shop in town
On a recliner
Dreamily comfortably
He sat mesmerized
All ‘round him blasts from the past
Good times! never the bad
The room’s his refuge
His fortress of solitude
To where he retires
When the world’s unwelcoming
And his soul needs sustaining!
03-17-2022
© Vic Evora
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