Served my heart
Suppose its petty
And surely inelegant
but I’ll spill it anyhow
As i recollect
“I still think of all the stuff
I suddenly gave away
When I I though I will die”
All the paintings I sent away
Hoping to be remembered
My hand or another held
The brush and decision
Thought would bring
Safety net and affection
And watchful eye on escape
A photo shows up sometimes
In a flashback and fleeting
Glance
Fireworks or factories
On a Spanish coast, a grotto
Fig de Foz or Gandhi beach park
Lions gate in a windstorm
Pretending i was Varley
Taking late night ferry
Over between drunken tug boat races
All gone but for the snaps
I try to make anew
But hand only knows how
To forget and the paint
Goes on in errant blobs
Maintaining current mood
##
Painting: Tom Thompson
