Lost Illusions

 Steadily, I ride down the Nile

as Cupid's delight glistens in the air around me,

littering the river surrounding my gilded vessel

with sweet, floral splendor.

 

The mirages come and go,

but there seems to be no horizon

in the realm of mighty Saturn.

 

The mirth of young maidens,

their songs, their laughter, their lyres,

the silky feel of their embrace,

and the scent of their perfumed necks

endlessly fill my pages with inspired verse.

 

While their delicate harmony

persuades my sails towards a tranquil dusk,

I spot a sullen figure upon the bank:

aged, hunched, half-starved,

certainly, a poet by his despondent gaze.

 

And when his darkened eyes meet with mine,

stricken by their haunting familiarity,

I am overcome by the fading of my own existence.

***

(Minneapolis, MN -- February, 2018)

This is another poem inspired by a famous painting. In this case, that painting is Lost Illusions by Charles Gleyre  (1865). This painting depicts an old poet sitting on the shore as he watches a boat with people that represent all of his pleasures as a young man that is sailing off into the sunset. This poem is meant to flip the perspective a bit. I was 25 when I wrote this, so I was very much still in that boat full of pleasures, thinking about a time when I'll look back on this part of my life.