Am I to tell
Of a late afternoon
Whose gift of joy
Was so swiftly taken
By the dark impounding clouds
Am I to bare my soul
Say that happiness fleetingly landed
But was unable to stay
Or gather to enrapture
Bare branches
Net curtains
Silver white sky
A painting by Mildred Bartee
Natures spring shadows
Hung on the alabaster wall
Blue sky
Jet stream
Rows of mountain bikes
Cigarette smoke wafts as
Smokers drift along the terrace
Still pond as reflector
Of the YKB above
As if by Magritte himself
Energetic birds
Sing and swoop
More delicate birds
Pick at the feeder
I eat seed with my breakfast
The plain white bowl
Sits on a painted table mat
A woodpecker
By an unknown artist
One whose royalties
Are sure to have expired
