A wash of blue or brown, a mist ascends
the weather in degrees. I see a subtle
line develop contrast on the horizon
as the symbols revolve in the heavens.
The marsh grass and the trees stretch up
into the endless sky, a messy contour
confuses the eye and I can't apprehend
the sense of the image that is built
with a suggestion of color. Her hand is
moving quickly, always upon some task,
yet performing without any effort.
Thus what is rendered is more than the sum
of its parts, is more than the analyzed
surfaces of a quickly painted canvas.
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