Tuesday 24 February 2009

Doubting

Thomas Aquinas
peered out from dark glasses
at his descendant.

“You must have a thousand questions,” he said.

Harold smiled.
“Not I,” he said,
“though I have many waiting
in the back room.”

And he led
us through a grating
in the gloom
to a narrow door once painted red
but now scuffed and peeling
where a flock of notecards
launched into the air.

“Pick one,” he said,
and Thomas Aquinas caught the nearest,
a blue one scented with violets
and laughed.
“Like a duck out of razors.”

6 comments:

aims said...

Like a duck out of razors? Is that a common expression over where you are?

Rachel Green said...

Indeed not
The irony of a mixed metaphor!

duck out of water / sharp as a razor

BT said...

Gosh, I'm glad you explained that one Rach! Lovely painting.

Rachel Green said...

Thank you Gina.

Incidentally, did you ever get work of the copies of AUC you ordered? I sent out eight on your behalf but the ones from Amazon never arrived.

Unknown said...

I love it! And your art continues to amaze me.

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