Joseph Bail, French
“Well, It Sure Smells Good, Lydia, But the Glow Is a Little Disconcerting. Just How Long Did You Nuke It Anyway?,” ca. 1900
Oil on canvas
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Info about this artist is pointed to by my comment at another blog entry.
/// For The Evening Meal this moonless night,
women sit ‘round the sole source of light.
Winter sunlight is fleeting,
so to see what they’re eating,
candles clustered together burn bright.
/// Many years ago Lucie was born.
Since her husband died, she’s been forlorn.
Cook had been asked to bake
a full-sized birthday cake,
and its top, sixty candles adorn.
/// Lucie stares at the flames, thinking back
about funds for gas-lighting they lack.
She leans toward the cake dish
and for gold makes a wish.
Then she blows… and the whole room goes black.
/// Light pollution, though dim, I’ll agree,
can illuminate, letting one see.
But— no neighbors nearby
and no moon in the sky?
Like they’re locked in a vault with no key.
/// They‘d be eating dessert right now, but
all is darkness and cake can’t be cut.
Candles could be rekindled,
but their match supply dwindled.
Something must be done! No one knows what.
/// Lucie calls out, “Take each other’s hand.
Then when I count three, all of us stand.
Slowly, we’ll cross the floor
reaching out for the door.”
The blind leading the blind, out they fanned.
/// Single-file they accessed the next room
where some hearth embers cut through the gloom.
Their adventure brought cheer
which they cherished all year.
Her next birthday meal’s lunch, I presume.