Acrylic on canvas
16" x 12"
Inspired by the poem "Cycles of Change" by Debra Friedkin
CYCLES OF CHANGE
We rallied round an evening barbecue
like a prehistoric tribe partaking of the hunt spoils;
post Fourth of July, the dog on his outdoor run
barked at errant firecrackers.
We splintered into subgroups
aware that relatives cannot be chosen;
smoldering coal smoke hastened the darkness
so we lifted our voices to push back the night.
Sitting in webbed chairs we lit citronella candles
and raised beer bottles to the stars;
clouds above our heads danced across the full moon
the wind below dispersed our conversations capriciously.
Funny how one has no sensation
of the movement of time slipping forward;
that moonlit night I saw my generation infiltrating
my parents reign, while my children ripened.
— © Debra Friedkin