MEAD MOON

“It’s my friend Jimmy Lynch. But there’s much more to this painting than Jimmy. When I was young, I used to ride horse and motorcycles at night along with the local farm boys - in the middle of summer in the middle of the night, all of us naked. I was intrigued by the bodies of those farm kids - their faces so tanned, their bodies, covered up by their work clothes, looking like they were covered with wax. Nude bodies streaking around at night always impressed me. When I was doing this painting, I’d take off my clothes and, together, Jimmy and I would drive around - at two in the morning on his big Harley-Davidson. It wasn’t cold, for it was late August. The mist at night was fascinating. It combines the mystery of my youth with the shock of today. I have to laugh, for this one turns most people off.” - Andrew Wyeth
 
Magpie Tales has chosen Andrew Wyeth’s 1990 painting “Man and the Moon” as a stimulus for engendering creativity amongst the community of Magpie Talers. Here is my contribution:
 
Mead Moon
 
And when the wild ride was over,
He stood beside his steel steed, naked as the truth,
And looked up to see the Mead Moon rise.
 
The moonbeams tangled as they touched his skin
Knitting a translucent chain mail shirt,
Cooling his white-hot flesh, but not dousing his ardour.
 
And when the others had all left, he alone stood there,
Brave enough to confront his solitude,
The headlight paling into insignificance as moon shone on.
 
She smiled at him, the moon, amused by his feebleness
Although his young body concealed taut muscle, tough sinew,
His hands strong enough to squeeze the life out of one.
 
And when his thoughts finally had run out of his head,
Swarming around him like a hive of buzzing bees, he looked up
And invoked ancient spells, extracted from his latent femininity.
 
The night was mystic and the moon a witch bewitching,
And the sky tore like stiff cardboard and stars fell, like silver rain,
And the moonlight screamed while streaming down,
And his heart beat like huge bass drum, insistent.
 
And when the spell was done, he looked at himself with new eyes,
Able to admit at last his innermost desires, they too naked;
And he mounted on his steed and chased after the reality
Of what was some moments before, only a dream.