“Lines of Light on Sleeping Water” by Bob McCormick


Out of stock


Mixed media

26″ high x 30″ wide x 1″ deep

Buy now and pick up at the Gallery at the end of the show, beginning on the 20th of February.  Shipping cost will vary depending on distance; please contact us for a shipping estimate.

For our video about Bob and this piece, please visit youtu.be/hsAZ9W5VZp8?t=684.

Bob, a retired high-school English teacher who studied at Bloomsburg and Kutztown Universities, submitted this poem with this piece:

In the Afternoon

In the afternoon

when the sun does shine,

and the sound of tires

splashed splashed through the rain

sits one-billionth of a life in a leather swivel chair

knowing nothing but the nothing of the day’s pressing affairs,

trying vaguely to decipher, falling down, down, down, down,


a vacant stare.


Through blue-tinted glasses, time soared,

luring us to a point beyond our distant stand-


as we do

as we do

as we do

on light-blinded days,

light-blinded daz-ed by the dimness of the settling ever-night,

wading through black waters toward the moss-grown shore.


Lines of light on the sleeping water,

freight-filled arks and metal arches

float and gird the hardened city

wrapped in ribbons of the night.


Within the walls all must wander,

men of Mercedes, tough men and ladies,

ladies who lunch, and work-women hunched,

and a few left who listen

to currents of air.

Who follow airplanes with their eyes,

and sleep for dreaming of night skies,

when they dodge the telephone wires,

as they rise, as they rise, as we rise.


Fish swim in the sea.

I ride the sky.

Space is the ocean to me,

and when I’m traveling, we’re all traveling to