A landscape done in oil pastel
hangs on the wall below the staircase
the colors only a suggestion, fading
and morning sun streams in
swallowed by wrought iron, reflected by marble;
a window is open to let in the sound of distant waves
and tradewinds searching for a sail
Passersby look and wonder at the way the house feels empty
they can just tell
windows like vacant eyes staring
and seeing nothing
From dreams of bliss
the artist is waking in the garden
pierced to the bone by dawn
and new landscapes slipping away
lying on a bed of trampled roses
savoring the touch of thorns
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Photo by Birmingham Museums Trust on Unsplash
2 responses to “Tradewinds”
Beautiful.
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Thank you Syd! (:
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