The sky is canvas to the setting sun
Bold strokes, color,
Form freed of images
(The sun taught Motherwell to paint)
We shun abstraction
Create images in stars, clouds, sky
Young men streaming manes of stars,
Angels of nature, or
White mules and a column of smoke
What do you see?
A home in darkness?
Under threatening skies?
Elegy to another day’s end.
Or the peace of evening.
Time for rest.
The silver edging harbinger of
The breath of a new dawn
Please go see Motherwell’s Reconciliation Elegy here: