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Woman Reading
   –Henri Matisse, 1894
by Hannah Nguyen

This corner of the room
knows her well, as well as
a pillow, pressed in the same place
night after night, knows its sleeper,
as a table knows its plates.
See the burgundy wood cabinet,
its single door left ajar
in the width her hand has made
to retrieve its only book.
How a lamp's pink globe
illuminates, turns to pearl
in her arrival; the curtains drawn,
the afternoon sun a honeyed path
that rests on the nape of her slender neck
as she reads.





 

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