The Way You are in Paintings

Voice of old wind,

Waves of grass, glistening hills,

languishing before trailing off:

One last breath of afternoon,

Exhaling into evening stillness.

 .

In my mind, alliterations of delusion,

Delighting in devouring dreamy days,

Silken splines standing steadfast

In riffled rivers of reverence,

Rain risen,

Held hoping.

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