art/poetry
December 20, 2023
This is a poem about the collages I was making in 2016.
work made 7 years ago
My hands guiding a pair of scissors
cutting through paper
No idea in mind but certainly in body
Shapes resembling mine some curves some geometry
some with holes missing from their center
and some hanging precariously
as I paste them together
starting from the bottom and working up
reaching for some balance in the asymmetry
Getting near the top and recognizing the body
with no real limbs
more like of the trunk of a tree
Like the stones of a cairn stacked neatly
Marking a place in time I would come back to eventually.
Roberta Aylward ©2023
Thanks to Maya Stein for the writing prompt, “seven.”