Dear Ken,
Do you remember Violet’s laughter?
Storm’s thunder muted du Pré’s cello,
in transmission. And in it I heard
Violet’s laughter; distinctive, explosive chortle,
joyful eruption.
Contralto, never shrill, somehow intellectual,
informed. Responsive to irony or wit. As though
the atmosphere had vibrated some striking observation
she delighted in and, joining the thunder, laughed.
An echo. A duet.
Ellen Peckham has read, published and exhibited in the U.S., Europe and Latin America. She frequently uses both art forms in a single work, the text decorating and explicating and the image illuminating. Her archives of drafts, edits and art are collected at the Harry Ransom Center For The Humanities.
