Georgia O’Keeffe & Alfred Stieglitz
Their lives have split apart but still they spend
the winter months, those short dark days, together.
And their connection has become a myth
for both of them, a structure that lives on.
I saw a ziggurat of beeswax once,
a tall stepped edifice of dullest gold,
breathing the faintest scent of honey through
the gallery, although the liquid sweetness
that had lived within the comb was gone.
The energy that flowed between them, gleamed
in photographs and paintings, has lapsed now.
From what remains they mould this artefact:
as keep-sake for the sake of keeping faith,
as truthful and delusive as a myth.
1 February 2015