Tuesday, December 29, 2015

If Gasoline Lit the Brazier

The painting raised slightly while framed on wall
     I did not notice the frame, the paint
I saw the rarity of the outing
     Out and about in daylit grounds

I wanted to shake the hand, gaze the eye
     Of mankind whom perservered such devotion
I wanted a private meeting over sherry or beer
     With one pivotal person whom's frivolity was definition

We, my smaller family, had a picnic with the small bones, those paintings
     And having the soup made by sous chef
A small miracle happened or perhaps this was just apple sauce
     We had fun, and spent time outside our lives
          As one might spend time 9 feet away from painting...

Curious or fascinated or excited or exacerbated or rewarded
      By some singular artifact enchanted by hand
Never to be used up as long as it was cared for
      Our love is like that, and appreciated by those we spend time with.

And those 9 empty feet of space filled with air and conversation
        Let me reach the nine inches to the turning point
With enough room for me to accept this could maybe work out
        That after confusion, pain, loss... Life goes on...

Life goes on, and good things do happen, there is beauty in the world

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