Winslow Homer--a retrospective

he was a man intent
on otherness,
while deft hues and parallels
keep your eyes busy darting
lower right to east
and northwest,
his subjects reach beyond
the squareness of their existence

early, he did succumb to drawing
his elite circles--
baronesses playing croquet
captured in indulgent poise

then his magazine job took him
to the Civil War,
that phenomenon
replete with extreme
symbols of life which newsmongers
die for

his dues were paid
there too, though
between snipers taking aim and soldiers
showing defiance
he savored
quiet scenes:
retreats by the campfire,
recliners at the tent, etc.

But, he found a true home
at the remote recesses
of land and sea
as far as the West Indies
as near as the native south

With a historian's eye
sans the bias of the victor
he spoke common lives
in sinuous accents
without failing
their solemn dignity

where Degas saw the little ballerinas
at practice bars,
Homer put his kids
on farm stiles and barrels

from the colored girls
in Cotton Picking
to the little boy waiting ashore
in Daddy's Coming,
the quiet faces of repose
possess a withdrawn awareness
akin to the fire
sleeping inside stones

the elite shunned him for
focusing on the heels
of society
but his subjects still walk
proud in our memory
long after then
celebrated self-portraits
and vacuous scenery