#5, 1988 "...like the leaves themselves turning..."

#5, 1988 "...like the leaves themselves turning..."

A surface hardened by repetition

becoming by shade

meaning less, distanced like Art.

14.

going over the shapes

of our minds, forming 

the world,

what we can see.

The merging of mind and object,

to fall into

the privileged moments,

as spots of time,

becoming part of, parcel,

a transparent eye, seeing--

the flower becomes one with the stars.

 I had visited Italy that year and made watercolors each day in the sunset. Sunset colors quivered 

with unresolved wonder, elegiac of a time of a possible resolution.