Below is a poem inspired by the above painting, written by acclaimed poet and songwriter Marcia Pelletiere.

Entering Porter Run, Pennsylvania
                                                                           -after a painting by Silvère Boureau

My friend has made this place.
He has traveled into the woods, and returned
to secure his wilderness within a painted frame.

No owl, fox, or fawn disrupts the quietude.
One shallow pool of water shivers in the cold.
Snow reclines contentedly on stone.

Moving into the scene, my knee grazes
the sharp icy edge of a boulder.

Smaller branches snap against my jacket sleeve.
Why should nature grant me favor?

So many years I chose instead
the jeweled line of the city,
where at dusk a million floating flames
would impudently come alight.

Even there, where I lived misplaced,
I had supposed myself suitably prepared
to take the natural world’s dictation.

It was my friend who proved ready,
who coaxed earth’s pulsing song
through his own veins, who offers
this muted luminosity of winter light.

An early morning blush soaks through the sky.

I consider the swayed stance of hillside trees,
the silent blue shadows floating in chilled hollows,

then come to find that they
are also watching me.