Winter 1958 • Vol. XX No. 1 Poetry |

After a Painting by M. Vanka: The Yugoslav Artist

First there is a table, a wooden table. On the table is a little heap of sand. On one side of this little heap of sand Are lead soldiers and toy cannon, With real little puffs of smoke, And on the other side of the sand Are lead soldiers and toy cannon and smoke. Upon the pile of sand, at the top of it, There are ten matches, upright, blue-tipped, In a square, and on top of these, A painted globe of tin, a child's globe— On this, a house of cards, a small house, No kings, no queens, but twos, threes. Upon this house of cards there stands A real paper doll, crude, bright, A peasant doll. In her hand she holds An olive branch.       That is all. Except That the smoke winds (as if it were alive) Into the immaculate blue air behind the table And is the shape of a white (If you were lying on the ground)       Mushroom. 

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