Cargando...

mist on paper

she set the easel up
steadying the back leg with
an old glue tube
while raising up in her chair she
spots it, there it was,
did she dare to move quickly
maybe splashing the colors
from frighting it, as it kicks the ground
she repositions the tip of the brush
here some long strokes and
their some dots, prisms would be nice
hanging in a way that the light dances
enticing it to come closer
using your own hair as your brush
the essence that the mist is holding
in place so as to stop time
while it being so close you can smell it
and as you put it’s fragrance on your parchment
it breaths to life and escapes it’s ropes
you try to lasso it, only to tangle it with your paint
and the easel leaning now, in need of repair
needs the fourth leg of the other bear
she struggles to her feet, while brushing
the color off her knees, the sharp pain of
disappointment is not her friend, in the end
all the colors ran together and the one
being under was trampled down
by testosterone syndrome with
misplaced eye salve and confidence
as a mule, as they look down the slopes
that lay between, the gap is large now
the feelings render useless –of no need
waterproof –non absorbent
left wondering what it was

Preferido o celebrado por...
Otras obras de Patricia May Neiderer...



Top