Poetry from Paul Reyns
The Woman Who Rowed with Klimt
When she was young
her father told her that though she walk forever
only God could round a lake.
He named her Krystal after the purity of water.
For her thirteenth birthday, she received a rowboat
and had the run of an Austrian hamlet.
At first light he found her feeding larks on a hillside.
They forced out the vessel which he would render light.
And, in monkish mist, though her eyes might search the distance
Only an aging master could vanish right into her.
Paul Reyns has been published in LEVITATE, Panoplyzine, and Penultimate Peanut Magazine, with work forthcoming in The Write Launch. He lives in New Hampshire, where he enjoys skiing and birdwatching.