Legs by Megan Windom (edit)

Legs by Megan Windom

My art teacher said: Look, think, make a mark

Look, I told myself, and pushed to make the

Crucial connection that would engage me.

Everyone knows a cow has four legs,

Two circles with four stems dripping from the

Bottom and splotchy patterns on the side

Will suffice.  Look, my teacher would

Surely tell me, they are nothing like that.

Likeness is the thing.  First, look at what’s near,

The delicate foot with toes pointing at

The pen that’s hooked into my eye.  Gesture

Needs to be ensnared before the details.

Looking destroys the way I see the world.

Nothing is whole, but the relation of

Parts that come into close proximity

With light accenting some, hiding others.

But they’re broken. Incomplete.  They require

Some subtle substance.  There’s more intent than

The surface is willing to expose. Or

There should be. Concepts act as driving force

Behind the angle of her wrist where her

Hand dips down to drape across her red knee.

The figure to be drawn – roughly my age.

She’s perched upon a platform, no single

Angle of modesty afforded her.

The corner of the room becomes her friend.

She watches it raptly while we watch her.

Look. Okay. But the eye is no longer

Seeing. It thinks in pools of light and dark.

Pause, draw an inch.  Erase to start over.

Everyone knows a woman has two legs.