Tradewinds

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

Photo by Birmingham Museums Trust on Unsplash

2 responses to “Tradewinds”

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