Under Green Tree, he painted this for me

Green Tree

He painted this for me, in the studio with the

apartment on welders street ,

and peace like a river overhauls my soul

its wild outside, but in here, I’m home

and his eyes are amber fire and rain in a storm

and the rush of a healing in the end of a song ; we

dance in the grass , then sleep in the shade of those

leaves , and the easel and  well- emptied paint


Leave a comment

Filed under Art, gaining thru losing, Transitions, True Love, Writing

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s