In place of speech

I went to see Picasso

At the Modern

On a day we lost the sun.

We had to wait too long

So browsed the other galleries

To make time run quicker.

In a darkened room

Filled with power

Were monumental canvases

That played with colour.

One reminded me of

An opening storm

Behind the grey;

A lightning’s flicker.

While staring at the streaks

And lines and flakes

Looking for meaning

Or even form

In the abstract sweeps

I heard the soft scrape

Of the creator’s brush

Painting silence

In place of speech.