The Portrait (For Grant)
The portrait you painted
still hangs in my home
out of place among my other things
high artistry of its kind cannot sit well
in a student's dusty room
~o~o~o~o~
The portrait you painted
of a lonesome young soul
those cool lips, just parted, long brushstrokes
his eyes betraying all vows to withhold
confessions of the wounded heel
~o~o~o~o~
The portrait you painted
is the strangest mirror
red tones catching fire in morning sun
how I have laughed before it, cried before it
and it will not move
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