The Gallery

Such is a shadow,

a lonely walk

the energy of a soul

finding their way

his way

her adventure

perhaps his imagination

a painting to lose his mind while trying

desperate measures

the sort of bind that seems attractive

rather than one of ridicule

when the reality of the game

is revealed

in gallery seven,

perhaps it was four

or somewhere in the early afternoon,

she in cloak and dagger

watched him switch postures

giving him some indication

that his trophy

might be her own

quiet diadem

to steal the words of

Emily … (Dickinson) …

he was in his aching manner

subject to

fantasy.

Varnish and Rest and Walks

Photo of the Day

FullSizeRender 9

Weight(less)

Imagine what is, is not

with little regard for when, where why

we find solitude in the wood

a restful glance patience is

a reward to feel the drop of fatigue

to know the space of

peace

an allowance is

made

hand made, man made,

shoe laces

we could study while this world unraveled

far beyond where the setting is

stillness.

when are we standing in place

while sitting out the last race.

We might know this look,

yet how often is a motion

mistaken for settling

the ground solid

catches my tired eyes while watching

I remain passive

in a gentle

land of tarnish

buried in this, my varnish of security.