 Winters Past
Winter's
weight, a-heavy drops,
Sepia tears, a-weeping,
From smoky glass,
Uneven hues
Seep unto earth, a-creeping.
Coal gas lights, a cobbled canvas,
Oil-a-wash, unruly,
Align a staircase,
Steep and careless,
Sweep your stones uncruelly.
 Now ages old, a brittle gold,
A brumy mould a-broken;
True artist eyes,
Unto the skies
Arise, alive, awoken.
Through
shadow steps, a painter
Spies a rusting lamp, awaiting;
Easel wobbles,
Hog-hair rushes,
Racing thoughts relating.
|
