small songs I sing
to join
my voice to other voices
hidden in the grass

Friday, June 28, 2013

the way through

after a painting
of the same name
by Jane Smith

in a house
of locked doors
she dips her brush
in green-gold light—
a forest beckons

I enter
through brushstrokes
like briars
the deepening canvas
of the heart

the echo of birdsong
inside us
we make our own way
through a pathless wood

Lynx  XXVIII: 2, June 2013    


1 comment:

  1. beautifully descriptive - and what a great photo to accompany it.