The flat is lighted by
what is
My Piet Mondrian
window.
Its strong black
metallic frame divides
The window panes into
six smaller ones
Showing the same aspects
of the town.
At night from the bed
where I lie upon
The main division of
my visual space
Is the upper view of
the empty sky
Save for the ever
hovering helicopter lights
And the lower view
with the medley of town illuminations
Bright orange and
yellow mixed with some red
From the traffic
lights which give it a kind of hallowed atmosphere.
The dazzling twin spots
on the flat roof opposite
Trace on the ceiling
the shadows of the window frame
In an eerie network of
crossed lines
Reminiscent once again
of a Piet Mondrian painting.
Through a curious transfiguration
They become the stylized
sails of one of
His favorite windmills
on a canal
Of his native
Netherlands giving me
An epiphanic moment
about
His structured modern
works.
©L. Bailliet
26/01/2012
Sparta is the word that comes to my mind!
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