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July 2014, vol 10, no 2

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Diana Webb

After Vermeer


In this small room the door is open and early autumn sun shines in, whitening the linen on the bed and gilding long folds of yellow ochre curtains. I think of Vermeer as I concentrate on my task of writing. Absorbed in my work, I identify with so many of the females he painted.

'woman tuning her lute'
a tiny string of sunlight
fades on my floor




crane