Still Life
I saw an old painting
…and the master’s hand
Was a tunnel to history.
In each speckled, earth-toned quadrant
I could see life as lived
by the subject,
And I understood their voices,
Fragmented by time
…four hundred years later.
Today I hiked the woods
Aflame with the master’s palette
Colors now as they were then,
The tone of earth
…I was still,
The world was still
And life was just as I remembered it.
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