On a sonless afternoon

electronic doors open in welcome

at the Art Gallery.

Paintings beckon.

I stroll past frames,

criss-cross each room.

My dead sister, like a guardian angel, is here.

This gallery a favourite haunt of hers and mine.

Dual cloaks of exhilaration and sadness enwrap me

as I stand before huge works.

Gill’s early paintings of Adelaide

draw me, as they did her.

Portraits ponder,

scenes suck in light.

You and I, our eyes focused

on their glories.

You and I



One thought on “Together

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