Poems
Poems Watercourse way ( a poem) I pour the paint Up and down the canvas and let it run Ultramarine and Phthalo blue like a memory of ancient waters holding the pale sunlight in its liquid embrace Picasso had his Guernica Michelangelo his Sistine Chapel I only have this canvas and a vision of God's face reflected in the depths of the watercourse way Angel's wing No one knew she would die so soon after her dream. Silent angel , messenger of light, almost transparent in the dark