A Poem by Nathan Blansett
Author: Poetry Editor
April 19, 2016
This week, a poem by Nathan Blansett.
LINES AFTER DELFT
In Dutch paintings—interiors, shadow-upon-gold—there are smaller details
that name shadows falling beyond the frame, behind the door,
stroking the window-glass, darkening the stitched lace, the carved violas:
undercurrents, unsaid and unmistakable. Someone removes
their slipper. A lute is tuned by a slender hand. In Dutch, luit can mean
between legs. Houses line the canals like fine wallpaper. One canvas hangs
in a private collection: a girl who offers form to lace, and near her bare feet
are mussel shells, coppery and oblong. When watching me, do you picture such small
NATHAN BLANSETT‘s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Journal, Mead, and The Adroit Journal. He lives in Atlanta, where he is a student in the creative writing program at Emory University.