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.
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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.
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