Standing in Front of Joan Mitchell’s Painting, Hemlock: Three Different Views

I 

You are standing at a picture window, looking 

out into the woods — edges blurred from frost.  

It feels frigid cold as masses of white paint 

weigh heavy on the frozen boughs, frantic 

brushstrokes of cobalt and crimson crisscross

the surface, trying to escape the season as one

vertical dark mark emerges from the chaos  

anchoring the mighty hemlock into the earth.

II

You are standing in the middle of the forest, 

branches burdened by the gravity of winter.

The falling snow seems to have lost direction -

you take a step backwards to catch your balance.

The air feels silent. Dark icy edges fade away

into confusion.

III

You are standing in a snow globe, 

in steely, gray light.  

A solemn hemlock tilts towards you.

Suddenly, you tumble against the curved glass, 

dizzy wet snow falling all over your face.