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May in the Mountains 1919 Ernest Lawson (1873-1939) (As depicted on a postcard)
The picture would portray a few flowering apple trees profuse in bloom their parchment petals set to sail with the wind, take off— float over the mansion, over the late day graying grass perhaps into the hills or farther in time beyond. But there is no code, no writing on the leaves, nor message from a settling sun to tell us of the house nestled in behind the trees— no hieroglyphs to say who lives there what their lives abide; who thrives— No notes to say who came to look, ponder the land before they built the structure with five brick chimneys that then became a home, no message to tell us when or even why. Nor fathoming what goes on inside, who has loved, who caressed, which ones among them struggled and how; no divining from this postcard— its impressions in May— what dreams got lost, how hope survived.
Copyright 2020 Judith A. Brice