at that odd moment

At that odd moment the landscape moved,
Dabs of green paint, blue background
Flickering in the pale sunlight
Gray streaks flitting diagonally across the canvas
Resembling strangely the flight of a bird
The whoosh of a breeze breaking the museum silence
Trees swaying, flowers nodding, eyelids twitching
Reality returning as sleep slips out the door.

~ Original 2009

Nothing beats a Sunday siesta on the back patio!

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This entry was posted in Original Poetry, Reflection. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to at that odd moment

  1. Bonnie says:

    I love this… so descriptive and real… an experience in words. Thanks for sharing this.

    Bonnie

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