Dudley's Dunes Paintings)
Frank Dudley, child of deaf mutes,
to see your parents' sound-waves—their
gesticulating, eyebrows arching,
As an artist, you tried to read Creation's
seeking Eden east of Chicago.
You came not
just to play in Northwest Indiana's
you lived your lakeshore summers
in Cottage 108.
Your eyes caught the wave of wind
the signing of shadow on silica.
Your ears got
the singing of waves onshore.
Glaciers had never
retreated—the warm merely
melted them down,
out of sight, leaving a living legacy
There you watched the face of Lake
flirting with light. You heard
the siren wind
luring the traveling dunes, sighing
on their sands.
Thanks for paying the State of Indiana
of "one large oil painting per year."
for mining fragile Hoosier sands
only for inspiration.
© by Bernhard Hillila