When Writers Meet Art
Charles Sheeler, Two Against the White, 1956
Two Against the White
Ellen Brenneman
Nothing stands taller in my memory
than you.
Solid, dependable, forthright,
unlike so much I’ve come across
since I left that time and place
where nothing ever changes.
There’s a hunger in me
I didn’t even know I had,
and you’re still there,
with a lifetime supply
of the right things,
the wise things,
the things I need to store up
and carry with me.
And so I return, silently, in thought,
whenever the shadows of the world
get too murky,
and things don’t make sense.
I travel back to that place
where edges are straight and truths are plain,
and I hear your voice
telling me what’s nonsense
and what’s plumb.
I guess it’s us against the world,
me and that voice of yours
that goes with me everywhere
and guides me every day.
