Tuesday, July 11, 2000
Lake Mead Painting/Poem. . . by Pam and Dean Blehert
Lake Mead, Nevada
This painting is called, "Lake Mead"
because no one knows the names of those clouds
that leap out over the lake
like a playful pod of sky whales,
shedding a spumey wake.
If you go where this painting is from,
you will not find the road, sagebrush,
boulders and the already blue-with-absence
lake, but the clouds will be there.
One very black mountain insists
to the point of green luminosity
on being solid, protests too much,
is, I think, about to implode--
Such frenzies of envy are roused
in solidity (an endangered species)
If the road is gone, I don't know
how you'll get there to see the clouds
at play, unless you are already there,
where this painting comes from.
-- Dean Blehert
Copyright © 1999. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Duplication of this
print without permission of the artist is forbidden under copyright
law. Please ask permission if you wish to use for non-commercial