Mr. Klimt's Garden
Hens like little soldiers patrol
its path always on the lookout
for a weevil to swallow whole.
Or a snake. Chuck, chuck,
chuck, chuck. They strut plucking
at weeds between the daisies.
They look up at the towering
hollyhocks, ignorant to the fact
that spores of rust are in the wind.
One day soon the gardener
will tear out the infected plants
and the hens will be soup.
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
I saw the image above on Facebook and it struck my fancy, so I looked for it online and found this in the Klimt Museum's description:
As with all the paintings that were stored in Schloss Immendorf in Lower Austria during World War II, also this painting burst into flames set by the German Forces.I love the way it was translated: "this painting burst into flames." However, this is not a matter for whimsy. It's heartbreaking that the work was destroyed. I hadn't heard of Schloss Immendorf, so I looked that up, too and found an interesting article from The Guardian about the Klimt paintings in the fire.
I wrote the poem on the same day I heard about the stash of looted paintings that had been discovered in Munich. If you missed that news, read about it in this article, also from The Guardian.
There's a film coming out soon, called The Monuments Men, which is based on the book of the same name, by Robert M. Edsel, about the recovery of art stolen during World War II. The Monuments Men Foundation continues the work begun nearly 70 years ago!
The lovely Ms. Rattigan is doing the Round-Up today at Jama's Alphabet Soup, where there's always something to savor.