DocAndersen
The paint brush
discolored and
dried
drawing across the sky
expanding from origin to desintation
each brush stroke
a reminder
of a color
that once was.
The empty canvas begs for color
but none provided
it withdraws
and speading
the hole in color
the loss of color
the lack of color
becomes the one thing
we can see but never touch.
nice poenm and photo
Thanks, Jasmine! It is always nice to get a compliment to start the day!
You are a talented man Doc. Love the words as well as the image. Impressive.
Thanks, Carol. I have a collection of notebooks of poems I’ve written for the past (let’s just say 4 years :-)) Some of them wander a bit into the self-indulgent and some aren’t half bad. The best ones were published years ago, but I no longer own those copyrights.