It suggests
But never tells,
An odor wafts
But doesn’t smell,
Somehow
It rings
A familiar bell;
It is not a fault
That the artist
Tickles the senses
But does not
Assault.
It is what it is
In the eyes
Of the viewer,
Likely meanings
Shrink only
As those who
See it
Grow fewer,
To one person
A diamond
While to another
A sewer;
What may have been
Meant
Will not make a
Dent
In the brain
Of the receiver
Who is always
The receiver.
Abstract
Until understood,
What begins as a veil
Becomes a fact
Without moral value,
Either of bad
Or of good.
There is no
Subjunctive,
No must,
Could or should.
Each set of eyes
Brings it out of
Canvased neutrality
And into
Yet another
Personal and legitimate
Reality.