The Woman Who Was Bonnard's Wife 

Like a dappled Ophelia
she lies in her bath
as a young bride, as the matron 
at the end of her life.

His first love, his last love:
the woman who was Bonnard’s wife
stands shaded by shutters 
or doused in light streaked in to glaze

the salon chairs, the table arranged
for a breakfast of colours.
It never ceased, 
the flamboyant, the subdued 

courtship of the artist 
and the muse whose likeness never aged
but stayed the same 
with poise, with insouciance.

From A New Tenancy, Dedalus Press, 2004

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