Visiting Renoir – A Poem

Another in my ekphrastic series.

Visiting Renoir

I called it a blue and white ceramic.
You called it a faïence jardinière.
I called Paul Berard’s home a farmhouse.
You called it a pied-à-terre.
The tapestry, you noted, was crimson red.
Did you notice, like my lips? I said.
We painted chalk cliffs, poppy fields, shingled beaches.
I spoke of love. You spoke of peaches.

©elsp 2025