Travails of Black-and-White Drawings

They’ve done their best.

They’ve passed each test you’ve set.

Wresting form from your disorder,

they arrest attention – cross the border

from an absence to a breath:

close to life, they’re almost wet.

Their black-and-white organization

has developed warm gradations

of dimension: chiaroscuro

shades and grays. Now every one

of them has ways that none of them

had known before. But they

desire something more.

They suffer from one unmet agony,

one tragedy, one overriding dolor.

They want some color.






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