Today light is mute, communicates in sign,
vernacular hues of yellow, red and blue,
remnant green and brooding gray, this
impressionist state of unspeakable
absence here, in this playground, on this
late autumn scape where, I kneel in leaf
strewn mud, in lieu of prayer, my voice in
tongues, try to spell out the babble, try
to translate and address, the rambling
digressions of my manic eye; to converse
as if you were present, and light today
was bright,articulate.
1 comment:
If i was at all articulate, i'd be able to explain why that painting is so mesmorizing. but i'm not so i'll just say that i have a difficult time pulling my eyes away from it. its oddly comforting.
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