These are tennis courts near our house. Here is a poem and a painting:
Glimpses
As fleeting as the after burn on the back of my eyelids
just before sleep,
I see a gray mouse sweep across the rainy street
like a windblown leaf to hide
under a car stopped at a light.
Something so tender, so unseen.
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| Where is that acorn? |
2 comments:
The acorn is under the SNOW. Love your painting Carol.........
Thanks! I actually saw a squirrel find an acorn he had buried in my garden a month or so ago. That was a first!
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