untitled poem by Bob MacKenzie I stand in the room where the painter was. Ceiling blue with white Down to where soft white Hardens, and blue purples, greys to greening Floor with bright yellow. Grey stands a chair here and another there Where a man can be. The room is empty; How can a room so empty seem so full? published: The Dalhousie Review, Volume 52, Number 2, Summer 1972 The Creative Review, Volume 13, Number 1, 1972-1973 |