Poem: Dancing By The Window, Michelle Seabrook Pierce. >Into the still night time air of / a tight room / a window appears. // You think a window is the hole, / the nothing part of the wall, / but this Window is / the Thing with substance / while the walls become unsolid / and soften away like smoke. // How had you never noticed before/ such a wild and focused presence / so close at hand? // Everything, you now notice, / is awake and moving / in complex harmony / embracing / your problems, worries, self. // You lift your chin and spin, / a little close to the wild. / Hoping to get pulled in.<

original dimensions: 10 x 10 x 1.5 in

medium: Oil, gold foil