Poet Rebecca Lindenberg begins by quoting Ezra Pound:
What thou lov’st well shall not be reft from thee;
What thou lov’st well is thy true heritage.
Lindenberg writes of empty galleries, of naked shelves and towering walls where:
Regular readers know of my proclivity to be visited by that which doesn’t, technically speaking, exist to be seen.
This week we have been asked to capture within a frame an image of one object meaningful to us. Mine may be difficult to spot, but I promise it’s there. It’s a reflected image of something dear to me. I carry it with me every day, to try to capture some of the sights and colors of this world.
Once you identify the object, you may also see other things I see: an open, upturned palm with slender cloud fingers and a left thumb in the foreground, gently holding a lens; the wispy wings of a snow-white dove. . . .
What do you see?