Monet Painting Poplars on the Epte

In his flat-bottomed boat anchored to the river-bed,
Monet stands firm, sways, among his canvases, waits
for some lapse or flare of light that will add
another stroke. Before him, the crowns of poplars wind
away, tracing in high blue air the river's every bend.
Trunks so tall and spindly they could not be climbed
are shadows dissolving in the water that feeds their roots.
They will stand a few more months: painter has paid
lumber-merchant for this stay — a last season in his hands.
He watches calmly, works in haste, through each moment
entering leaf or cloud or stream — in flux, yet tranquil.
Above water rhythmed by light and air, the scene builds.
When the paintings are finished, the trees will be felled.