Marian Semic

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Marian Semic

by

Michael H. Nguyen

 

I was there at sixteen

 

feral strays

somehow

always found their way 

up those stairs

 

strange             of all those that came

she called me hers                    I recall

fondly

 

the way

she taught me of people

paint

 

showing me to outline                shadows

            how to see             shades

and carve out               shapes

 

shades of blue               cadmium reds               

titanium white bright aqua green

 

I’d watch her hands               composed                      

creating

images

from thin washes of acrylic             

paint

                                   

inside the people’s gallery

above ground

we stayed up late

                        watching                             

the scene emerge                      slowly

others came to see and

there we were   till late

and there         

forever

in our paint

remained