Still Life
A rose blooms under a painter's hand.
He adds some pleasing dew, light and shade.
Sits back satisfied.
He notices a single rose in its vase
(his wife had set it upon the studio table),
it is withering. the water stagnant,
it smells, even more than the odor
of oil on canvas.
Grumbling, he throws the flower away.
He should have painted it.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2023
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