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Eulogy For Silent Brushstroke (Clarence)
 
So, who were you?
A thin and angular brushstroke, your
head continually tilted (a bit)
to the right, and up
as if forever singing,
“I see London,
I see France…”
 
Who were you,
Silent Brushstroke, leaving
the shadow of that evocative smile
(casual in its appearance –
missed in its absence) across the Streets
and Avenues of Dayton,
Mifflin, Washington, State
and 42nd.
 
Who were you?
The stuttered silence
of an afterthought.
The quick energy
of inspiration so quick to placate,
so easily disappeared,
so readily appeared,
so willing to inhabit and too
willing to vacate.
 
Silent Brushstroke,
my friend,
my lover’s lover,
my Mister “C”
enigmatic-brown-eyed,
Sweeping Brushstroke,
indelible yet undefined
on this causality  –
this human canvas.


- Poem by Tuschen
 

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