tHUrsDAy mORniNG ARt CLaSS

tHUrsDAy mORniNG ARt CLaSS

Invisible light
blinds bright
eyes no longer sea
tidal changes, in me    

the deft clinician  
practices her art
the old man continues
to wait, watching it all  
  
unfolding, as a painting
of metaphors, doors
- opening and closing -
as a small child's laugh
echoes through the sadness
hues buried within the hallway  
  
clues to my unconscious, the
view changes its perspective  
  
riffing along on a Thursday morn,
warm coffee, feeling quiet, unborn 

 

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