Clouded Eyes
The Ortolan bunting sings aloft and I
shield my eyes
as the greenish grey bird gives way
to thoughts much greater
swishing fearlessly off the banks
in splendor and high grandeur
sparking only diluted colors
to fall into my brazen hands
In each stroke and in each palette
swirls of magic appear
blowing away like the leaves
farther away with each droplet
each pain staking brush
until these clouded eyes can see
what isn't there
a time of tranquility
a time of mistrust
in a sea of confusion
and a place of introspection
*Inspired by the works of Vincent Van Gogh*
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017
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