Snowstorm by Maurice de Vlaminck
Lying there under the felt like poncho
Like a sleeping river beneath the ice;
Moving slightly with nano speed ideas.
Renewing, restoring his energy stores,
Oblivious to the dreary cold outside,
snuggled under his coverlet igloo.
Entertaining thoughts of uncommon places,
Like a hermit, content in his aloneness;
A participant in the current flow
Carrying him to places known and unknown
Draining memory's vault; painted, profuse,
Of worlds not yet appearing above.
All this in the brief summer of his day.
© November, 2014; rel
Whereas some have captured the loneliness of the painting, you have captured a sense of coziness while remaining indoors on such a cold day.
ReplyDeleteThe brief summer of his day turned into a stormy painting indeed.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the first two lines as it really sets up the read..sadly winter is arriving a little too quick.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. I might be having some Summerless days for a while...
ReplyDelete