Magpie Tales 59, 'The Backdrop Painter'

Magpie Tales 59

My name won’t ring any bells.

There’s no face to it.

In a crowd of heavies
only the keenest minglers
note my signature spears of juniper,
my wilting inlets,
draping the sallow masonry
that would otherwise grace porcelain shoulders.

I suppose I could brag.
Frankly,
where would they be without me?
The Plains? Another blazing sunrise?

I prefer though, to remain the bright glade in passing,
turning the occasional head,
whose accolades never loose their savor,
fading in mass, until unnoticed
like valleys, bridged behind a masterpiece.