The dark palette, the potato
with two hands clasped around it,
the blade held like a palette knife:

a potato peeler, whose
oblong hands grasp,
whose downward gaze beholds.

The brush skirted the canvas
in blue and gray. Only a shadow
on the wall hints at russet.

Still the rough hands
suspended in motion
draw the eyes.

The knife, the axis
of this canvas.
As if her hands too

emerged from the dark soil,
the light reflecting off her knuckles,
like eyes rooting for light.