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Monet after fifty years has managed to disappear
like the invisible person in the summer suit
behind the flowerbed†, who stares (the critic says)
at the woman in white with the parasol.

GUNS  FIRE.          BOMBS BURST.          GRAVES ARE DUG.

Monet also digs. He rearranges & brilliantly enlarges
his centerpiece lilypond.

He paints continually
(year in, year out - in red green pink mauve yellow)
streams of amazingly colourful nothings - vividly
& permanently  marvellous !

 

 

 

†The figure of a man originally stood behind
the flowerbed in the background.

Note

He's a very solid, practical-looking person. But he crosses & recrosses his bridge: he stares fascinated continually at his lilypond. He perennially concentrates on it vividly, perfectly.

(I like to think that at this time he Imagines he can hear the ‘14 - '18 war proceeding distantly.)