I'll tell you, Robert Motherwell, your painting and me alone in Oregon
And I'm only sitting here trying to keep my posture, no one coming by
In this pass-through gallery, just that painting of yours staring at me,
Its orange face, eye-nose 'goggle', mouth-reptile whose end sneers up
With a faint serpentfang, the darkness, the deep black shadow behind,
Which makes me shy back into the welcoming orange.