¡Hasta la vista!

Still life. But look closer.

We are a transient population, migrants all.
Objects arrayed on a table, still there?

As I step back, the gap between cup and vase vanishes.
One curve occludes another, edges disappear.
Morning shadows fade or deepen.

Those pears? They joined the stewed apple.
The pomegranate has lost last week’s blush.

Still, I hear your voices.
Bonny blue cup, humming to yourself.
Plastic milk bottle — are you shy, sly or just evasive?

Your voices:
Celebrate me! Love and abandon me!

Artist’s statement:
I wasn’t there.