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Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Under My Bonsai

I sit alone
on my living room floor
a cold pervades
not ambient
embraced by absence
a chill a void
is my canvas
the color on the brush
matters not
nor the brush stroke
whether in water or oil
in the warmth of blues
the freshness of the whites
the yellows
the passion of the reds
the purples
the darkness of the black
the olives
can’t find the paint
that places smiles on faces
unfeigned glee in eyes
kindness in the heart
caring of open palms
I sit
with my Bonsai
surrounded by a
a spider plant
a tall corn plant
a sprawling fern
purple variegates
my two small gentle souls
curled on my lap
providing calm
and warmth
supplanting an uncaring
human kind